Guardian
by Emily Blake
Summary: Ryan forms a special bond with a young girl during a case: he is her hero, the only one she trusts. When the villain that killed her father begins targeting her, Ryan risks everything to keep her safe. Reviews greatly appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Ryan stared down at the bloody mess at his feet. The coppery waves of blood's metallic stench wafted over him continuously, but years of experience helped him ignore it.

The man was approximately 40 years old, his brown hair graying at the edges. His brown eyes were wide and glassy in death. The gory hole that pierced his throat was a black and red horror. The bullet that had torn through it must have either been large or hollow-tipped.

Another bullet hole perforated the man's chest, right near his heart. His shirt was soaked with blood, showing that he had bled from that wound for quite some time.

"So, any guesses as to the cause of death?" Ryan asked. "Not that there's much mystery…"

Tom looked up at him from where he was kneeling next to the man. "Well, open eyes indicate an instant death," he remarked. "My guess is that the killer shot him in the chest first, let him bleed for a while, then finished him off. Judging by the apparent angle of the kill-shot, the bullet probably blew out the base of his brain stem."

"He was dead before he knew it," Ryan finished. Tom nodded.

Ryan thanked him and then moved off down the hallway to where Horatio was standing, looking into an empty bedroom.

"Mr. Wolfe," he acknowledged.

He continued surveying the bedroom. It was decorated to suit a little girl, with pink wallpaper and stuffed bears on the bed. The white comforter was unwrinkled and clean, neatly tucked under the mattress. The pillows were neatly arranged without any sign that a head had rested on them recently.

"Our victim's name is Martin Roth," Horatio told Ryan. "He was a pretty well-known real estate investor. We're looking into any business disputes that may have gone sour. His body was found this morning by his housekeeper when she came in for work. She said he lives here with his eight-year-old daughter, Amber, who sometimes spends the night at her mother's house on Star Island. Tripp is trying to track them down now."

"Divorce?" Ryan asked.

"Yes, and apparently an ugly one, too," Horatio answered.

"Horatio, the girl isn't at her mother's house," Tripp called, approaching them with an agitated look on his face. "Patrol is bringing the mother in now, but she says Amber wasn't supposed to visit for another two days."

Ryan went cold. "H, it looks like she hasn't slept in her bed recently. If she's not here and she's not with her mom, where is she?"

"Mr. Wolfe, we may have a kidnapping on our hands," Horatio said quietly.

"Horatio!"

The three men turned to see Calleigh hurrying down the hallway toward them.

"I found Mr. Roth's day planner in his study," she said, holding the little book out to Horatio. "Look at yesterday's date."

"Amber, Sleepover at Amy Kensington's, 7 p.m.," Horatio read. "And there's a phone number."

He looked at Tripp. "Frank, come with me," he said. "We need to get Amber right now. Mr. Wolfe, Calleigh, continue processing the scene."

With that, he hurried down the hall and out of the house with Tripp at his heels.

{•}

Horatio rang the doorbell of the blue house with Tripp at his side. A middle-aged woman answered the door, smiling. They could hear children's laughter inside the house.

"Can I help you?" she asked from behind the screen.

"Ma'am, my name is Lieutenant Horatio Caine, I'm with the Miami Crime Lab," he said.

"Crime Lab?" she echoed, her smile fading. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm afraid so, ma'am," Horatio said. "Is Amber Roth here?"

The woman looked frightened. "Amber? No, she's not… She was supposed to come to my daughter's birthday sleepover last night, but she got sick, so Martin kept her home. What's happened?"

"Frank, call in the Amber Alert," Horatio muttered. Tripp took out his cell and walked away. "Martin Roth was found dead this morning in his home. We haven't found Amber yet."

The woman put her hands to her mouth. "Oh, God...," she whispered. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Are you close with the Roth family?" he asked her.

"My daughter, Amy, has been best friends with Amber since preschool," she said. "I know Martin and Shawna from the PTA."

"I'll be in touch at this number," he said, handing her his card. "If you can think of anyone who would want to hurt Martin or Amber, or anything else at all, I want you to call me."

"I will," she assured him. "Just find Amber!"

"We will."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Ryan slowly paced Amber's empty bedroom, desperately searching for some clue as to where she was. When Horatio had informed him that she was missing, Ryan's heart had begun to twist angrily. If there was one kind of criminal he hated the most, it was someone who would hurt a child in any way. A fire had been kindled in his blood; he would hunt down this monster or die trying.

The bedroom was not giving him any help whatsoever. It looked absolutely spotless. The bed was neatly made, the sheets crisply folded and wrinkle-free. If had Amber had been sleeping when the killer entered, the bed should have shown some sign of struggle, of her being pulled out of the bed or something of that sort. The closet was open but otherwise undisturbed. The window was firmly latched; there was no way he could have climbed up to it without a ladder, no evidence of which existed in the garden below. It was as if the girl and her kidnapper had simply vanished without a trace.

Ryan got down on his hands and knees to shine his flashlight under the cherry nightstand. The beam of light hit a small piece of paper; he fished it out with one hand. He unfolded the slip, it being no bigger than a Post-it note. Written in slightly smudged black ink were the words, "Second Floor – Third Left."

Ryan got up and went to the hallway. He counted the doors on his side of the hallway: there were two more between him and the stairs down to the foyer. He shook his head, disbelieving. Someone had written down the directions to Amber's room from the front door.

This crime wasn't a robbery gone wrong or a dispute that escalated too far. Someone had planned it.

Ryan returned to Amber's bedroom, tucking the paper into a fresh evidence envelope as he went. He put the package in his kit and continued looking around. He got back down on his hands and knees and lifted the bed skirt. A long, plastic box that looked to be full of children's clothes was underneath it, leaving no space between it and the edge of the bed. On a whim, Ryan pulled the box out. When he looked back under the bed, he cried out in surprise.

A little girl was cowering in the shadows.

Ryan quickly shined his light at her. She threw her arms in front of her face with a squeak; he could see she was trembling madly. He turned the light off, letting what little sunlight that could reach under the bed illuminate her gently.

"Amber?" he asked quietly.

She looked at him with wide, blue eyes, but didn't answer or otherwise move.

"My name is Ryan Wolfe, I'm a police officer," he told her, relief washing over him. She hadn't been taken, though, judging by the note he had found, someone had tried.

She continued to stare at him, her knees tucked up to her chest. She had her hands curled up under her chin, as if she was trying to make herself as small as possible.

Ryan took out his phone, his eyes not leaving hers.

"Calleigh, it's Ryan," he said softly, not wanting to scare the little girl. "I need you in Amber's bedroom. Come in slowly and quietly."

He hung up and slowly put the phone back in his pocket; any sudden movements would be a bad idea.

"I'm here to help you, okay?" he said. "Can you come out?"

He reached out a hand to her. She recoiled from him like a skittish animal.

"I'm not going to hurt you, I promise," he coaxed.

She shook her head adamantly and tried to tuck herself into an even tighter ball. Ryan withdrew his hand.

"Okay, you stay under there as long as you need to," he told her gently. "I'll be sitting right here when you're ready."

He pushed himself up into a sitting position and leaned against the bed, making sure to stay in her sight at all times. Calleigh came into the room as he had asked, slowly. She looked at him, then the box he had removed from under the bed, then him again.

"What's going on?" she asked softly, looking confused.

"Well, I found Amber," he whispered. Calleigh gasped.

"Where?" she demanded.

"Under there," he replied, jerking a thumb toward the shadows under the bed. "She's too scared to come out."

Calleigh knelt on the ground and peered under the bed. Ryan joined her.

"Amber, are you all right?" Calleigh asked.

The girl didn't answer, but looked from Calleigh to Ryan.

"It's okay, she's a cop too," he assured her.

"We have to get her out of here," Calleigh muttered to Ryan, who nodded in agreement. "I'll call Horatio and you meet me down at the Hummer when she comes out. There are a few reporters outside; they'll go nuts when they see her. I'll clear a path as best I can."

She got up and walked to the girl's dresser. She took out various garments and placed them in a large evidence bag. After she was finished collecting a change of clothes for Amber, she left the room, closing the door slightly to quiet some of the noise coming from the hallway. Ryan turned back to face Amber.

"Amber, we want to take you to the police station," he told her. "You'll be safe there, but I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"

He offered his hand to her a second time. She regarded him for a long time, but he didn't move. Slowly, hesitantly, she reached out a shaky, sweaty hand and placed it in his.

Gingerly, he guided her out from under the bed. When she was fully out from under it, she threw herself into his arms and began sobbing into his shoulder. He held her for what seemed an eternity, gently rocking her and patting her hair, which was dark blonde and drenched in perspiration. She was pale and sweaty and shaking all over. He whispered soothing words, trying to calm her down, his own heart aching at the sight of such terror. He could only imagine what she had been through the night before.

"You ready?" he asked her after she had steadied a bit.

She wiped her red, puffy eyes and nodded.

Ryan took off his jacket. "Come on," he said.

Amber latched her arms around his neck and he lifted her up, supporting her bottom with one arm. She was remarkably light. With the other hand, he draped his jacket over her.

"We're going outside now," he told her. "There might be some people outside who ask you questions, but you don't have to talk to anybody. Just hold on to me and we'll get you out of here, okay?"

She nodded, then buried her face in his shoulder. Ryan adjusted the jacket so that her head was covered, then began slowly walking out of the room.

The hallway was blessedly vacant; Martin's body had been removed. A large, blackish blood stain marked the spot where he had taken his last breath. Ryan was grateful that Amber was not looking.

He made it to the stairs and began the descent, taking care to not jostle the child in his arms. When he made it down to the foyer, a few patrol officers watched him, amazed at his find and sympathetic to his small charge. One officer moved forward to grip the front doorknob. He nodded to Ryan.

Ryan nodded back. "Here we go, Amber," he muttered.

He felt her grip around his neck tighten as the officer opened the door.

They were met with an explosion of sound. Ryan stood dumbfounded for a moment on the threshold before he thought to start walking. More reporters than he had expected clogged the front yard, flashes of light bursting from their snapping cameras. People pressed against the patrolmen trying to give Ryan a clear path, shouting questions.

Ryan spotted Calleigh waving to him from the street. He hurried toward her, trying to avoid bumping into anyone in the roiling crowd. He finally made it to the Hummer with the help of Calleigh and the other patrol officers still on the scene.

She opened the door for him, but when he moved to place Amber in a back seat, she squeaked and clung to him even tighter than before. Ryan and Calleigh looked at each other for a moment and understood. Ryan carefully climbed into the back seat, still holding Amber. Calleigh closed the door behind them, then hurried to the driver's seat. She got in and wasted no time, immediately putting the car in gear and speeding off toward the station.

Ryan awkwardly fastened the seat belt around Amber and him. The whole way to the lab, she didn't move or speak. She merely clung to Ryan as if her life depended on it. Once in a while, Calleigh looked back at them, concerned. Ryan stayed quiet as well, the ride seeming to be the longest of his life. He absentmindedly continued to hold the girl tight, making sure that she knew he wasn't going anywhere.

He would protect her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

The first order of business when Ryan and Calleigh arrived back at the lab was to call a child psychologist for Amber. The girl had calmed down further during the car ride, having stopped shaking and sweating for the most part. She did not seem as blatantly terrified of strangers as she had when Ryan first found her, but he made sure to keep her close at all times.

Ryan seemed to be the only one Amber trusted. She was all right with Calleigh, but she wouldn't let anyone but Ryan carry her or come too close to her. As he and Calleigh walked the girl into the station and up the elevator to the lab, Amber would only let Ryan hold her hand. Since she only had her pajamas on, Ryan had given her his big jacket to wear, and she held it close around her as if it would act as a shield.

Ryan sat with Amber in an empty interview room as they waited for the psychologist to arrive; Calleigh had found some blank paper and crayons for her to draw with. Ryan watched her as she aimlessly doodled, seemingly calm and untroubled. He could only imagine what a painful struggle it must be for her to process what had happened.

"CSI Wolfe?"

He turned to see a young black woman in a navy blue suit enter the room. "I'm Trisha Davies," she said, shaking his hand heartily. "I'm the psychologist you called."

"Great, please have a seat," he said.

The woman took the offered chair and smiled at the girl next to her. "You must be Amber."

The girl looked up at the woman but didn't say anything.

"That's a pretty necklace," Trisha remarked kindly. "Where did you get it?"

Amber made no reply, only continued to gaze at the woman wide-eyed. Trisha looked up at Ryan with a questioning look.

"She hasn't talked at all since we found her," he explained.

"I think it's best if I have some alone time with Amber," she told him. "The fewer people in the room, the easier it usually is to sort things out with kids."

Ryan nodded, then turned to go. A sudden sound made him whip back around.

Amber had stood up so fast, she had knocked her chair over with a clang. She raced to his side and grabbed his arm in a vice-like grip, staring up at him with watery blue eyes. She looked absolutely horrified at the thought of him leaving her; her breathing came in heavy gasps, as if she was trying to swim in deep water and was failing.

"Okay," he said quickly. "I won't go, Amber, don't worry." He looked at Trisha, who was surveying him with deep interest. "Is that okay?"

"Yes, that's fine," she said quietly, that same odd look on her face. "Could I maybe talk to you alone for one moment?"

Ryan swallowed. He looked down at Amber. "I need to go outside and talk to Ms. Davies for a minute, but I'll be right back. Is that okay with you?" he asked her.

The little girl hesitated, then nodded, letting go of his arm.

"Good," he said, following Trisha outside. "I'll be right back, Amber, I promise."

He shut the door and faced the psychologist. "What's up?" he asked her.

"You're the one that found her, right?" Trisha said.

"Yeah."

"She's formed an extremely powerful bond to you because of that," she explained. "She's just lost her father, it's natural for her to latch herself onto another protective male figure when she's this traumatized."

"Understandable."

"I think you may be the only one who can explain what happened to her," Trisha finished. "She listens to you, trusts you. Right now she's scared and confused. She doesn't understand what's going on. I think you'll have the most success with getting through to her."

Ryan rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, looking toward the door into the interview room, mulling over everything she had said. "I guess I could give it a go," he muttered. "I don't have much experience with kids, though."

Trisha smiled. "Something tells me you'll do just fine."

{•}

Calleigh walked into the firearms lab to find Jesse analyzing a bullet under the microscope.

"What are you doing in my domain?" she asked teasingly.

He smiled at her. "Sorry, I thought it was free to anyone. I didn't realize I needed approval from the Bullet Queen."

She laughed. "I like that. What have you got there?"

"The bullet recovered from Martin Roth's chest cavity," he replied. "The other bullet went straight through his throat and lodged in the floor. It was pretty mangled, not much to make comparisons with. This one seems pretty clear, though."

"Good, let's hope this gun's in the system," she said.

"Yeah, I'm running it through the database now," he said. "No hits yet, but I did find something interesting when I put it under the microscope. Take a look at the striations."

She walked over to peer over his shoulder. She studied the image for a moment, then said, "There are two sets of striations."

"Exactly," he confirmed. "Usually there is just one set from the bullet passing through the barrel. This bullet passed through something else, too. I'm thinking a silencer."

"That would explain why nobody in the neighborhood heard the shots," she commented. She thought for a moment. "You know, Ryan found a note with directions to the girl's bedroom written on them. Now we know they probably used a silencer. This was a thoroughly planned operation, and a sophisticated one, too. Our killer is no amateur."

"You thinking it was a hired hit?" Jesse asked.

"I am," she said. "The question now is who wanted to hurt this family so badly that they hired someone to kill Martin and kidnap Amber?"

{•}

"Do you have anything at all that you want to ask me, Amber?" Ryan inquired tentatively.

The girl mutely shook her head. He had just finished trying to explain what had happened to her father. It was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do, telling a little girl that her dad wouldn't be coming home anymore. It was heartbreaking. She seemed to understand, though. She seemed to take it pretty well, Ryan thought. He was impressed with the eight-year-old's strength, but she seemed so small, so alone…

Ryan choked on the words he wanted to say to her, the words of comfort. He knew they would be empty to her. She wouldn't believe that he understood exactly what she was feeling, that crushing emptiness in the pit of the stomach, that suffocating blanket of sorrow. The only way he would be able to save her from destroying herself from within over time was if he made sure she understood that life could move on.

After all, his had.

He cleared his throat. "Uh, Amber?" he said.

She met his eyes. He could already discern the smallest shadows of loss in her gaze. He knew it would be hard, but he had to try to get it all out in one go. She of all people would understand, he knew it, and she needed to hear it from him.

"I want to talk to you about something that I haven't talked to anyone about in a really, really long time, okay?"

She nodded. He had her attention.

"I want you to understand that I know what you're going through right now," he explained awkwardly. "I've been there, I really have. I want you to know that the pain may be unbearable sometimes, but you have to keep going. Don't let it take control of you like … like I almost did."

She gazed at him with rapt curiosity. He took a breath and continued.

"When I was a kid, I had a little sister," he began, a painful lump suddenly rising in his throat. He forced it back down. "She was about your age and her name was Katie."

"We were walking home from school one day; we lived just down the street. I always held her hand, the whole way. Always. We got to the crosswalk and I stopped to get something out of my backpack. I let go of her hand."

At this point he had to stop and collect himself before continuing. He hadn't realized this would be so hard. It wasn't as if he had never talked about this before; he'd had to do it about 20 times when he was younger.

"The walk light turned green and she ran into the street without me. A car… a car ran the red light and … and hit her. She died instantly."

Amber gasped.

"I was crushed for a long time," he continued. "I blamed myself for her death. Everyone told me that it wasn't my fault, there was nothing I could do, but I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if I had never let go of her hand. But it wasn't my fault. I know that now. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, Amber?"

They sat in silence for a while, during which Amber tentatively took hold of Ryan's arm.

"I understand," she whispered.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Ryan stared at her in surprise. "Amber, you spoke!" he exclaimed.

She ducked her head. "I understand what you're trying to tell me, I think," she said. She looked at him. "You don't want me to blame myself for Dad, because there was nothing I could have done. If I had come out, the bad man would have hurt me, too."

"Exactly," Ryan said, relieved. "You're a smart kid."

She smiled. "Thanks."

They didn't speak for a minute; Ryan didn't want to push her after making such great progress.

"Daddy and me used to leave secret messages for each other on the mirrors," she suddenly said.

Ryan smiled. "Oh, yeah?" he asked. "How'd you do that?"

"You just take your finger and write something on the glass," she explained, sounding more like a normal child every second. "Then to see it, you have to breathe on it like this."

She demonstrated, breathing out like someone trying to see their breath in cold air. Ryan chuckled.

"That's really cool," he said.

"You want to see something cool?" she said. "Look at this!"

She pointed to her open mouth and began wiggling a loose tooth with her tongue. Ryan smiled.

"That looks like it's ready to come out," he remarked.

"Yeah, but I'm not ripping it out," she told him. "I'm waiting till it falls out itself."

"I like your necklace," he said. "What is that?"

A flash of sadness crossed her face as she held up the delicate silver chain around her neck.

"They're angel wings," she said softly. "Daddy gave it to me. He said it would protect me."

Ryan smiled sadly. "It did."

She looked at him, blue eyes into hazel. Kindred spirits.

"Amber, I need to ask you some things about last night," he began gingerly. "Some of the questions might be hard, but if you ever want to stop, you just say so, okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay, here we go," he said. "Did you ever see or hear your dad fighting with anyone, either on the phone or in person?"

"Just my mom," she answered.

"Did you see the man that came into your house? Was it a man?"

She scrunched up her eyes to think. "It was a man, but I never saw him. I heard him talking, though."

"To who?"

"To my dad."

"What were they talking about?"

"Me, I think. The man wanted to know where I was."

"You heard this from under the bed?"

"Uh-huh."

"What were you doing under the bed?"

"I like to read under there with a flashlight," she explained. "It feels safe, like a cave. And Daddy can't see the light when I pull the box back in. I'm not supposed to stay up late."

"You said you heard the man from under the bed. Did you know who it was?"

"No, but Daddy did."

"What makes you say that?"

"He never said 'who are you' or 'what do you want.' He said 'what are _you _doing here.'"

Before Ryan could move on with his next question Amber suddenly interjected, "I know his voice from somewhere!"

"From where? Can you remember?"

She tried to think. "He talked funny. Like he was from another country or something. I think I've heard it before, though. I just can't remember where."

"That's great, Amber, keep thinking and try to remember."

{•}

When Shawna Roth strutted into the interrogation room, alarms began going off in both Horatio's and Natalia's minds. She did not look at all as if her husband had just been brutally murdered and her daughter had just been terrorized. Her eyes weren't red and weepy; they were perfectly made up with eyeliner and shadow. She didn't even seem sad. In fact, she seemed rather nervous about something.

Natalia and Horatio traded looks of bewilderment.

"Mrs. Roth," Natalia began, but the woman cut her off.

"It's Miss Peterson, please," she snapped.

"Right, sorry," Natalia amended, a bit peeved by the woman's waspish tone. "Miss Peterson, can you think of anyone who would want to hurt your family?"

"Martin did all kinds of shady business deals with people," Shawna retorted. "I'm sure half the city wanted to hurt him. Did you find Amber?"

"We did," Horatio said. "She was cowering under her bed, hiding from the man that slaughtered her father, whoever it was."

Shawna looked up at Horatio with dislike. He evenly returned her gaze.

"Good," she finally said. "When that officer came to my house looking for her I feared the worst. I thought someone had taken her."

"You didn't know about the sleepover at her friend's house?" Natalia asked.

Something that strangely resembled panic crossed Shawna's face. "No, I didn't," she said. "Can I see Amber?"

"She's being processed right now by our people upstairs," Horatio told her. "It may take a while, she's been through a lot."

{•}

"So, your mom's downstairs," Ryan said. "Would you like to see her?"

To his surprise, Amber began shaking her head fervently.

"Why not?" he asked, confused.

"I don't like her," Amber huffed. "She's a bad person."

Ryan didn't know what to say to that.

Something seemed to suddenly occur to Amber. "You're not going to make me go with her, are you?" she asked, pleading in her eyes.

"If you're not okay with something, we won't do it," Ryan assured her. "I don't want you to worry about anything."

Amber looked greatly relieved as she returned to her coloring. Ryan watched her, concerned.

Why did Amber fear her own mother?

{•}

"H, we can't let her take her!" Ryan exclaimed, trying to keep his voice down.

"Mr. Wolfe, we can't stop her from taking her child home," Horatio told him. "With Martin dead, she has rightful custody of Amber."

"Something is not right about that woman, H," Ryan said, a note of desperation in his voice. "Amber hates her!"

"I think your personal attachment to Amber may be compromising your professional view," Horatio pointed out, not unkindly.

Ryan sighed. "I know," he admitted. "But you would be compromised too if you spent as much time with that girl as I have. She's smart, sweet and scared out of her mind of going home with her mom."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wolfe, but we really don't have any options here."

{•}

Ryan watched as Shawna filled out the paperwork to take Amber home, his gut wrenching. The look Amber had given him when he told her haunted him. She had looked at him as if he had failed her… which he technically had. He couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes again.

Ryan looked down at the paperwork as he stood next to Shawna. His eyes froze at one section, her name. His heart began to race: he had seen that S before.

His mouth dropped open in disbelief. "Excuse me," he said, reaching for the paper. "I need to take this for a second."

Shawna glared at him exasperatedly. "Why?" she demanded.

"I, uh, need to make sure this is the right form," he lied quickly. "Wait here, please."

As he turned to leave he caught Tripp's eye. "Don't let them go anywhere," Ryan muttered to him under his breath.

Frank looked confused, but nodded all the same.

As Ryan hurried to the elevator, he caught Amber's eye. He winked. She grinned.

Ryan practically ran to fingerprinting. Walter was in there working on the little note Ryan had found in Amber's room.

"Walter, I need to see the note!"

"I'm done with it, you can have it."

"Were there any prints on it?"

"Just two stuck in the adhesive on the back. No matches in AFIS," Walter replied. "Why were you running?"

Ryan didn't answer, instead bent over the note with a magnifying glass, the paperwork he had taken laid next to it.

"What are you doing?" Walter asked.

Ryan looked up suddenly, his eyes wild. "They're the same!" he exclaimed.

"What's the same?"

"The S in 'Shawna' on this paperwork and the S in 'Second' on the note," Ryan explained hurriedly. "Amber's mom wrote both. She wrote the killer's directions!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

If Shawna had looked nervous before, it was nothing compared to what she looked like now: downright terrified. Horatio and Natalia eyed her suspiciously. As soon as he had returned downstairs with his new evidence, Ryan had immediately removed Amber from Shawna's presence. For a moment, Horatio was afraid Ryan would attack the girl's mother; the rage in his eyes was like nothing he had ever seen. Thankfully, the young CSI had simply collected Amber and left.

"So, Shawna," Natalia began coldly. "You want to tell us why you wrote this note?" She slid a photo of the little paper across the table.

The woman looked at it wide-eyed, but didn't answer.

"Did you hire someone to kill Martin and kidnap Amber?" Horatio asked.

She stared at him. "Of course not!" she exclaimed. "Whatever has happened between Martin and me in the past, I would never kill him. And I would never do anything to hurt Amber!"

"See, we're not so sure," Natalia said. "We matched the handwriting on this note to yours. We matched a fingerprint in the adhesive on this note to yours. Care to explain that?"

Shawna's eyes welled up. "You're wrong," she spluttered. "I didn't write that, I don't even know what it means."

Natalia shot a disbelieving look across the table. "Come on, you expect us to believe that you don't understand what this is? 'Second Floor – Third Left'? That's where your daughter sleeps when she stays with Martin, you know that."

Shawna opened and closed her mouth a few times but no sound came out.

"Don't say another word, Miss Peterson!"

A man in a crisp, black suit strode into the room with a sour expression on his face. "How dare you interrogate my client without her lawyer present?" he demanded harshly.

Horatio looked annoyed at the intrusion. "Your client never asked for a lawyer, Mr.…?"

"Flanner. James Flanner, I am Miss Peterson's private attorney," he declared.

"Have a seat, Mr. Flanner," Horatio said courteously. The lawyer did so.

"I need some private time with my client," the lawyer snapped. Shawna looked immensely relieved.

"That's fine," Horatio said. "But just so you know, we have already received our warrant to pull Miss Peterson's bank records. If she paid someone to do this, we will find out."

With that, he and Natalia left the room.

{•}

"This lady's raking in seven figures a year, and she goes and hires someone to kill her husband?" Walter exclaimed disbelievingly. He and Calleigh were sifting through various bank documents.

"Money gives people a false sense of immortality," Calleigh commented, her eyes not leaving the withdrawal records before her. "They think having it gives them the right to do whatever they want."

"I'm glad I don't have that problem," he joked. She grinned.

"Here we go," she said suddenly. "Shawna withdrew a lot of money in the past two weeks in amounts of $50,000. She took out six such amounts."

"Where did she put it?" Walter inquired.

"There's no record of her putting any of it back," Calleigh read. "And she didn't have it wired to someone else's account, she had it out in cash."

"Cash?" Walter echoed. "She took out $300,000 in _cash_?!"

Calleigh grinned. "It's how the other half lives, I guess."

{•}

"Shawna, who did you give the $300,000 to?" Horatio asked.

"I'm sorry, you'll have to be more specific," the woman replied. "I give a lot of money to a lot of different people. I do a lot of charity work."

A disgruntled Natalia watched the woman across the table with utmost dislike. Ever since her lawyer had come in, Shawna had completely changed. She was no longer scared and weak. She was smug and disdainful. Natalia just wanted to smack her.

"You took out six withdrawals in the past two weeks, all out to cash, for a total amount of $300,000," Horatio said tightly.

"Oh yes," she said. "I'm having all of my bathrooms refurbished. The price goes down a little if you pay cash in advance."

"Wow, those are some expensive toilets," Natalia scoffed before she could stop herself. Shawna gave her an oily, tight-lipped smile.

"They are indeed," she simpered. Natalia's blood began to boil as she fought to keep her face emotionless.

"Face it, the only thing my client is guilty of is wanting to get the best tiling job done in her home," Flanner said. "If that's all, we'll be leaving." He and Shawna stood up.

"Guess again, Mr. Flanner," Horatio said mildly. "Your client's fingerprints were on a note that had directions to her daughter's room written on them. Since the note was found at the scene of the crime, we can either assume she was there, meaning we can keep her for at least 24 hours, or that she wrote the note to someone who was there, most likely the killer, and we can keep her for at least 24 hours. So sit."

Shawna and Flanner dropped back into their chairs looking whipped.

Natalia hid a smile. She really loved the way Horatio could put people in their place.

{•}

Ryan drummed his fingers on the table, staring blankly at the computer screen. Amber was sleeping in the break room under Calleigh's supervision.

Jesse walked by, pausing to look in on Ryan.

"You okay, man?"

Ryan barely registered Jesse's voice, he was so lost in thought.

"Just thinking," he answered vaguely.

"About?" Jesse prodded, entering and taking a seat next to his friend.

"Fingerprints."

"Because… they're so mystifying?"

Ryan grinned. "There were two prints on that note," he explained. "We matched only one to Amber's mom. The other is still unknown."

"The killer's?"

"I'm thinking so," Ryan affirmed. "But there were no hits on AFIS, so our guy's in the wind."

Jesse looked at him expectantly. "And this is so intriguing because…?"

"Amber told me she recognized the killer's voice," Ryan continued, closing his eyes in concentration. "She said he talked funny."

His eyes snapped open and a triumphant grin spread across his face. "Like he was from another country," he finished. He looked at Jesse. "What if he _is _from another country?"

Jesse started grinning too. "Immigration?"

"Immigration!" Ryan exclaimed, hardly daring to believe they could possibly catch such a break.

He quickly typed in the necessary information. He watched as the countless faces of immigrants in the system sped across the screen. He barely dared to breathe or blink as he waited and waited. He could practically feel the tension radiating off Jesse next to him.

Then they heard the most uplifting sound: the affirming beep that a match had been found.

Jesse let out a short laugh of disbelief. Ryan read the profile now on the screen. "Dardan Fatmir, formerly of Albania. He is 28 years old and he came to the U.S. four years ago."

He read a little further silently. Then he shook his head in disbelief. "Jesse, you are never going to believe where he works."

{•}

"You're saying this man works for Linell Industries right here in Miami?" Horatio asked.

Ryan nodded. "Take a look at Linell's current CEO of Marketing," he told him, thrusting a file into his hands. "Recognize anyone?"

Horatio read and then looked up at Ryan. "Shawna Peterson."

The two men turned to peer into the glass-enclosed holding room in which Shawna and her lawyer were talking secretively.

"They work together," Ryan stated.

Horatio returned the file to Ryan.

"Bring him in."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Jesse and Calleigh watched as two patrol officers escorted Dardan Fatmir into the station. He was a fairly young man with olive-colored skin and a neatly trimmed black beard. As he was signed in and taken to an empty interrogation room, he seemed calm and composed. He carried himself with a regal air, but not a snobbish one. Still, something about him made them uneasy.

Dardan took the empty chair opposite the two CSIs with poise. He looked at them expectantly, his hands folded delicately in front of him.

"Hello, Mr. Fatmir," Calleigh began. "My name is CSI Calleigh Duquesne and this is CSI Jesse Cardoza. We need to ask you a few questions."

"Anything for such a beautiful lady," Dardan replied smoothly with a gracious bow of his head.

Calleigh ignored the flattery. "Are you aware that a well-known investor named Martin Roth was found dead in his home early this morning?" she asked.

Dardan nodded vaguely. "I heard it on the radio this morning," he replied. "Dreadful."

"Did you know Mr. Roth?" she asked.

Dardan frowned. "Not at all," he said.

"But you do know his wife, Shawna."

Dardan thought for a moment, looking confused. "I know a Shawna from work, but her last name is not Roth."

"Right, it's Peterson," Calleigh said.

"Oh," Dardan said, looking slightly surprised. "I didn't know that." He suddenly looked stricken. "Shawna didn't come in to work today, is she all right? She wasn't hurt, was she?"

"She's fine," Calleigh said. "Do you know her well?"

"How well do you know someone you work with?" he joked.

Calleigh allowed herself a wry smirk at the thought of some of her coworkers. "But you work in the marketing department with her at Linell Industries?"

He nodded.

"Did she hire you to kill her husband?" Jesse demanded suddenly.

Dardan looked completely taken aback. "What?!"

Jesse slammed down a picture of the note. "See this? It's directions to a certain little girl's bedroom: Shawna's daughter, Amber. Shawna hired someone to kill her husband and kidnap her daughter. She gave them this. And guess what? Your fingerprint is on it."

A thin layer of sweat appeared on Dardan's forehead. "I have no idea what you're talking about!" he insisted.

"Prove it, hold out your hands," Jesse ordered.

Dardan hesitated, then held out both of his slightly shaking hands. Jesse swabbed one, then the other. He took a small spray bottle out of his kit and squirted a fine mist over the swab.

Nothing happened.

"Negative for GSR," Jesse muttered to Calleigh.

"What does that mean?" Dardan asked.

"You don't have gunshot residue on your hands," Calleigh explained. "That could mean one of two things: first, you haven't fired a gun recently, or second, you have fired a gun recently but you washed your hands afterwards."

"It's definitely the first one!" Dardan exclaimed. "I've never held a gun in my life, guns scare me! I don't know how my prints got on the note, maybe I touched the paper at work! I want a lawyer!"

Calleigh looked at Jesse; he'd said the magic words. "Sit tight, sir," Calleigh told him. "Go ahead and call your lawyer if you want."

She and Jesse left the room. When they were out of eyeshot and hearing, she turned to Jesse.

"We need Amber to I.D. him, or he's going to walk," she told him.

"I know," Jesse said. "I wonder what Wolfe's going to say about that one."

{•}

"Absolutely not!"

"Ryan, if Amber doesn't identify him, we won't have enough evidence to hold him," Calleigh said. "The only concrete thing we have on him is the fingerprint, and that's circumstantial at best."

"I am not putting Amber within a hundred yards of that monster!" Ryan said hotly.

"Ryan, don't you think you're getting a little too attached?" she asked delicately.

"Oh, what, if I don't want to face an eight-year-old against her worst nightmare, I'm compromised?" he demanded.

"She won't be in the same room as him, we just need her to listen to his voice," she assured him.

"Ryan, I want to do it," came a small voice behind him.

They both turned. Amber had poked her head out of the break room door.

"I want to help," she said.

Calleigh smiled at her. "Thank you, Amber. That's very brave of you."

"Amber, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do," Ryan told her.

"But I do want to," she repeated, looking him dead in the eye. "I want to help catch the bad man."

{•}

"Remember, he can't see you," Ryan reminded her.

She nodded, staring into the interrogation room through the tinted glass. She watched Dardan like a hawk, her eyes never leaving his face.

On the other side of the glass, Calleigh walked into the room. She glanced at the two-way mirror, knowing Ryan and Amber were behind it, and gave a small nod.

Ryan instinctively put a hand on Amber's shoulder.

"Mr. Fatmir," Calleigh said. "You seemed kind of worried about Shawna's well-being before. Would you like to see her?"

Dardan regarded her for a moment, as if trying to decide whether this was a trick. "Yes, I suppose I would like that," he said carefully. "Where is she?"

Ryan was suddenly startled as Amber shot backward into him as if someone had lit a fire under her. He quickly grabbed her shoulders; he could feel her shaking.

"Amber, it's okay!" he told her, kneeling to be on her level.

She threw her arms around his neck and held tight.

"That's him," she whispered.

{•}

"What do you mean, we're letting him go?!"

Ryan couldn't believe what Horatio was telling him.

"You heard me, Wolfe, the DA won't file with nothing but a circumstantial print and the word of an eight-year-old," Horatio repeated, exasperated not with Ryan, but with the flawed system.

"He wasn't there when Amber heard him speak, H," Ryan said. "She was _terrified_. It took me and Calleigh almost two hours to calm her back down."

"I believe you and I believe Amber, but unfortunately my opinion is not the one that matters."

Ryan rubbed his eyes with a tired hand. "We can't let him go, H. If this guy is a pro, he will disappear forever."

"I agree."

Horatio took out his phone and dialed a number.

"Frank," he said. "I need you to put a tail on our friend Dardan. Can you do that for me? Thanks."

Ryan looked doubtful. "You think this guy will notice he's being followed?"

"Let's hope not."

{•}

"But why can't I stay with you?" Amber asked pleadingly.

"It's against the rules," Ryan told her. "Besides, Natalia makes way better pancakes than I do."

He smiled at Natalia, who returned the favor. "Probably true," she teased.

"I know it's true," Ryan said. "I can barely handle toast."

Amber giggled.

"Amber, could you go wait by the elevator for a second?" Ryan asked. The girl nodded and scampered off.

"Thanks so much for doing this, Natalia," he said quietly.

She smiled. "It's my pleasure, she's a real sweetheart."

"Seriously, though," he told her. "Thank you."

She regarded him for a moment. She suddenly noticed how anxious he looked, how exhausted and stretched he seemed.

"You okay?" she asked softly.

He grinned weakly. "Calleigh and H were right, I'm totally compromised."

She smiled and touched his arm. "It's really great that you care for her so much. She needs it right now. She's really lucky to have you looking out for her."

"I can't explain it, but…" His voice trailed off.

"She reminds you of your sister, Katie, doesn't she?" Natalia asked gingerly.

Ryan looked at her in surprise.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop," she said quickly. "I was walking by when you told Amber the story."

He waved her off. "It's fine," he assured her. "You're right, she does."

Neither said anything for a moment.

"If you or Amber need anything, and I mean _anything_, I want you to call me," Ryan told her.

"I will, thanks."

The two CSIs walked to the elevator together.

"Ready to go, Amber?" Natalia asked.

"Ready!" the girl chirped. The two girls got in the elevator.

Ryan raised his hand in farewell. "See you tomorrow, ladies," he said.

"Promise?" Amber demanded as the elevator doors closed.

"Promise!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

As usual, Horatio was the first of the day shift to arrive at the lab in the morning. The last remnants of the night shift were departing, the glass and stone halls glittering quietly in the orange morning sun. Perhaps it was because he was so used to this peace that it came as a surprise to find someone already sitting in his office.

The stranger was in a funeral-worthy black suit. He was a middle-aged man with pale skin and a receding hairline. He stood up when Horatio entered.

"Lieutenant Caine?"

"That's right."

"My name is Agent David Welford, Homeland Security." He firmly shook Horatio's hand.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Agent Welford?"

"Are you familiar with a man named Dardan Fatmir?" he asked.

"I am, we brought him in for questioning yesterday in relation to a murder investigation," Horatio answered. "May I ask what this is about?"

"We've been tracking Dardan for months now," Welford explained. "His brother, Shestan Fatmir, is a reputed trafficker out of Albania. We can't find him, so we've been following Dardan, hoping he might lead us to his brother."

"Trafficker of what, may I ask?"

"Some drugs, but mostly Shestan deals in human cargo, mainly young women," Welford said. "He kidnaps them, forces them into prostitution or sells them to the highest bidder. Like slaves. We've had an incredible amount of trouble catching them in the act, but our sources say the girls are often anywhere between six and twenty years of age."

"I've heard rumors of operations like that," Horatio said. "How can I help?"

Agent Welford looked slightly embarrassed. "Well, you see, two nights ago, Dardan threw off our tail. We couldn't find him anywhere. Until…"

"Until my CSIs called up his immigration profile on the database," Horatio finished. "You flagged his files."

Welford nodded.

"I have a unit tailing him as we speak," Horatio said. "I will put you in touch with them, and your people can join my people."

"I would appreciate that," Welford said. As an afterthought, he added, "You know, I'd heard you didn't get along well with feds."

Horatio smiled wryly. "I have no problems with feds that show me respect in my lab and don't attack my people for things they didn't do."

Welford grinned at that.

"Besides, we have bigger things to worry about than the fed-local rivalry," Horatio added. "I won't tolerate trafficking in my county."

He took out his phone and dialed Tripp's number.

"Good morning, Frank, how's the tailing going?" Horatio asked.

Welford watched as Horatio's face fell, then hardened. He didn't like the look of it. Something wasn't right.

{•}

"This is Wolfe."

"Ryan, it's Horatio."

"Hey, H," Ryan said, gathering up his work things one-handedly. "What's going on? You don't sound so good…"

"Mr. Wolfe, Dardan Fatmir escaped the tail this morning. Tripp is looking for him, but he hasn't had any luck yet."

Ryan froze, nearly dropping the phone. "Where did they lose him?"

"Tripp said he jumped in a car somewhere between Highland and Palm."

Ryan's heart dropped into his stomach.

"H, that's only a few miles from where Natalia lives…," Ryan said numbly.

"Get over there now, Mr. Wolfe! He may be going after Amber!"

Ryan hung up, his nerves buzzing uncontrollably. He raced out the door, grabbing only the essentials: his keys, his badge and his gun.

Only one thought continuously penetrated his panicking mind.

Amber.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Ryan would have given anything for a CSI Hummer at that point. People were much more likely to get out of the way for that.

He sped like one possessed down the road, ignoring angry beeps from other drivers. He had a flashing blue light across the top of the windshield – it was standard issue for department employees – but people didn't seem to care too much. He was forced to swerve multiple times, narrowly avoiding collisions the whole way, but he barely noticed. His mind was focused on one thing: getting to Natalia and Amber before Dardan did.

As Ryan reached the last corner, he flicked off the flashing lights. He stopped short about four houses down from Natalia's and his heart began pounding.

A black SUV was parked in front of her house. Two men were walking casually toward the front door. Ryan recognized the shorter one as Dardan Fatmir.

They were here.

Ryan scrambled for his phone. "Come on, pick up, Natalia," he urged her through the speaker.

"Hello?"

"Natalia, it's Ryan," he said quickly. "I need you to get Amber and get out of the house right now, Dardan Fatmir is here, he's coming for her!"

Static buzzed in his ear. "What?" she asked, half yelling. "I can barely hear you!"

Before he could repeat himself, he heard a muffled thud and a crash on the other end.

"Natalia?" he called, but she didn't answer.

Ryan parked his car and quickly got out. Making sure he wouldn't be seen, Ryan began running toward Natalia's house through the yards and gardens of her neighbors.

He reached her property. He drew his gun and carefully made his way to the back door. It was unlocked. Ryan silently pushed it open and stepped inside.

The first thing he noticed was that he was in a very neat, little kitchen. Everything was very quiet and nothing seemed out of place.

The second thing he noticed was Natalia lying on the floor.

He rushed to her side, placing his gun on the floor within easy reach. His heart pounded as he gently felt for a pulse in her neck. He breathed a sigh of relief: life was steadily beating through her, and she seemed to be breathing just fine. A thin, still-wet trickle of blood ran down the back of her neck, soaking her collar. Someone had hit her from behind. Her cell phone had flown out of her hand when she had fallen.

"Natalia?"

She didn't respond.

"Natalia?" he said a little louder, gently shaking her shoulders.

She woke up a little, scrunching her eyes and letting out a quiet moan. "Ryan?" she whispered.

"Yeah, I'm here," he told her, taking her hand. "Natalia, where's Amber?"

"Where's…," she repeated vaguely, as if she didn't understand him. Her eyes suddenly flew open and she gasped. "Amber!"

"Where?!"

"She's upstairs, they hit me from behind, I don't know where they went!" she stammered, placing one hand on her throbbing head and wincing.

He picked up her phone and handed it to her. "Here, call it in."

She took it from him, nodding.

"Stay right here," he ordered, gathering up his gun. "Don't move."

Just as he stood up, he heard the most chilling sound: Amber's scream. He hastened toward the stairs, but loud clomping sounds announced that someone was already hauling ass down toward him. The two men came racing into view, one of them clutching a squirming and screaming Amber.

"MDPD!" Ryan bellowed. "Let her go!"

Without hesitating, Dardan leveled a gun at Ryan's head and began shooting. Ryan barely dodged two rounds by throwing himself behind a wall.

"Ryan!" Amber shrieked. "Ryan, help me!"

The man carrying her hustled out into the daylight as Dardan covered his escape. Ryan didn't dare shoot back for fear of hitting Amber. When the men cleared the house, they began running full-out to the SUV. Ryan thought he heard sirens in the distance.

"Natalia, I need your car!" he yelled. He scooped up her car keys from the dish by the door and bolted outside.

By the time he had gotten in the car and haphazardly backed out of the driveway, the SUV was halfway down the street. Ryan punched the car into gear and sped off after them.

"This is CSI Ryan Wolfe," he called over his phone to dispatch. "I'm in pursuit of a kidnapping heading east on Lotus. Two men in a black SUV, armed and dangerous, took Amber Roth. I need backup!"

Ryan ducked under the steering wheel as Dardan leaned out the front passenger window and fired three more rounds into the windshield.

"Natalia is going to kill me," Ryan growled.

"Mr. Wolfe, talk to me, where are you?" came Horatio's voice over the airwaves.

"North on Wildwood!" Ryan answered, swerving to avoid nailing a sedan for about the fifth time. "They're heading for heavier traffic!"

"Stay on them Mr. Wolfe, we're coming to you."

Ryan tailed the SUV with the tenacity of a hunter. He was completely focused on the car in front of him, knowing that if he lost it, he lost Amber.

The car zigzagged through traffic, coming up to an intersection. The light flicked from green to yellow.

With a jolt, he realized what the SUV was doing. "Oh no," he moaned to himself, flooring the gas pedal and making the engine roar. The car bucked forward with a burst of acceleration.

The light turned red, but the SUV showed no signs of slowing down. It blasted through the intersection, making other cars skid and hit each other.

Ryan took a deep breath. There was nothing for it. He hit the gas.

Screeching brakes. A deafening crash. Pain slammed through his whole body as his world turned upside down and everything went black.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

His heartbeat pounded loudly in his ears. Every inch of him ached horribly as he steadily became more aware of what he was hearing. People shouting. Sirens. Blood steadily dripped from the wide cut above his right eye. He tried to raise his hand to brush it away, but he couldn't move.

Ryan's thoughts were thick and muffled; all his mind seemed to want to register was the glaring pain that coursed through his veins. He dazedly tried to sort through what had happened. He remembered a red light, a car…

Amber.

The thought sent a shock through him. Amber! They'd taken her, where was she?

With his sudden wakefulness came a wave of agony so powerful he felt nauseous. He tried to move, but a crushing weight above him pinned him in place. He forced his eyes open.

He was upside down and he was trapped.

Ryan yelled in pain, a sense of panic gripping him. He had to try to pull himself together. Amber was counting on him!

He tried to move his right arm, but it wouldn't. He couldn't move his fingers either, they just felt very cold. Ryan took a deep breath, gathering strength and willpower, then wrenched his right arm as hard as he could.

He screamed as his shoulder dislocated, feeling suddenly flooding back into the arm. Bright lights flashed before his eyes as his breath came in short gasps. Ryan closed his eyes against the crushing wave of vertigo, fighting to remain conscious.

Biting back the pain, Ryan tried to use both hands to undo his seatbelt. His fingers, feeling oversized and numb, fumbled with the buckle. Something was wrong with it; no matter how many times he tried to jam the release button, the belt would not come off.

Consciousness began ebbing away from him, the pounding in his ears growing steadily louder. Unable to continue trying to get the seatbelt off, Ryan gave in, unable to fight it anymore. He surrendered to the crushing black emptiness behind his eyes, which flickered shut despite his efforts to stay awake.

The sounds surrounding him grew fainter and fainter, as if he was hearing them underwater. The pounding in his ears soon became the only thing he could hear as he floated away…

"Ryan?"

The voice was very familiar, but Ryan's addled mind couldn't discern it. It drew him back to his body, back to the pain and the noise of the intersection.

"Ryan, can you hear me?"

Ryan finally recognized Horatio's voice. He sounded frightened, which was weird. He was also calling Ryan by his first name, which was weirder.

"Mr. Wolfe, open your eyes."

_That _tone sounded familiar. Ryan cracked open his lids and looked to his right. Horatio had half climbed through the ruined passenger side window. His blue eyes were creased with worry.

"Can you move?"

Ryan's tongue felt thick and heavy. Finally, he was able to choke, "No."

"Okay, I'm going to get you out of here, all right, Mr. Wolfe?" Horatio told him, producing a knife from his pocket. "I'm not going anywhere, just relax and don't move."

He awkwardly began to saw through the thick, woven seatbelt. He worked for a minute and Ryan felt the tightness around his chest lessen. The belt came apart with a snap. Ryan had to catch himself as his bonds sprang loose.

"Come on, let's get you out of here," Horatio said.

He helped Ryan untangle himself from the remains of the seatbelt and eased him out of the seat so that his back was flat against the ground, what used to be the roof. From there, he linked his arms under Ryan's shoulders and started hauling him out, Ryan trying to help him as best he could.

Ryan cried out in pain as his dislocated shoulder was pulled on again and again.

"Almost there, partner, hang on," Horatio told him quietly.

In a blast of blinding sunlight, Ryan was pulled free of the wreckage. Horatio let go of him, both men breathing hard. Ryan closed his eyes and let the sun bathe his aching body.

"Oh, my God, Ryan!"

Calleigh ran to his side. "Can you hear me? Say something!" she demanded.

"Ow."

She glared down at him. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"Well, I was thinking that it would be fun to see how many times I could almost die this year," he mumbled sarcastically. "This makes, what, three times?"

"You are such a…," she began.

"I know," he quipped. His strength was returning and even the pain was starting to fade somewhat. He struggled to sit up. Horatio and Calleigh both restrained him.

"Lie back down, you have to go to the hospital!" she chided.

"I'm fine!" he insisted, which of course was a load of bull. "Seriously, someone just pop my shoulder back in, give me a Band-aid and I'll be good to go."

He tried to get up again only to have Horatio push him back down.

"You know, forcing me back down does not make this sitting up thing any easier for me."

"You sit tight, I'll get a paramedic to take a look at you," Horatio said. He left.

"I need to get back to work, Calleigh," Ryan pleaded, all joking aside. "I need to get back to work. Amber needs me!"

"You won't do her any good if you're not at a hundred percent, Ryan," she pointed out harshly. He fell silent.

"Is Natalia okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine, just a small concussion. She's at the hospital," she answered. "And you're going there too whether you like it or not. You have a concussion, that gash on your head needs to be looked at, and your shoulder needs to be put back in."

His hazel eyes were pleading. "I have to find Amber. I promised to protect her," he said quietly.

Calleigh smiled sadly at him. "You will, but first we have to take care of _you_."

{•}

His head had been bandaged and his right arm rested in a sling to take the pressure of his newly relocated shoulder. His head scans had showed no sign of brain or skull damage in the crash, to his doctor's great surprise. He wanted to keep Ryan overnight for observation, which Ryan had point-blank refused.

Calleigh picked him up from the hospital. Even though Internal Affairs wanted him to go home and take time off, she brought him back to the lab. Natalia, who had also been cleared by the doctor, was there as well. She hurried up to him when he got out of the elevator with Calleigh.

"Ryan! Are you okay?!" she cried.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he told her. "Look, I'm really sorry about the car…"

She held up a hand to silence him. "Don't even go there," she said flatly. "You're safe. That's all that matters."

He gazed into her eyes, but she wasn't kidding. He nodded gratefully.

"Come on, let's go find Amber," she said, turning to walk away.

Ryan started to follow her, but stopped. James Flanner, Shawna's attorney, was in the lobby acting very strangely. He was moving slowly toward the elevator, not looking at anyone, as if he was trying to edge out before anyone saw him. He glanced up at Ryan and blanched.

Everything suddenly clicked in Ryan's head. He went cold with rage, removing the sling from around his neck and throwing to the ground. He began walking briskly toward Flanner, a fire in his eyes.

The lawyer panicked, bolting for the elevator and jamming the button repeatedly, constantly looking back at the advancing CSI.

Ryan viciously seized him by the shoulders, towed him away from the elevator and slammed him into the wall. People in the lobby scurried away, gasping. Jesse came running forward.

"Wolfe, what the hell…?!"

"You did this," Ryan hissed, his face barely an inch away from the lawyer's.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Flanner whimpered.

"You knew where Amber would be last night. You were up here when she left with Natalia!" Ryan barked. Flanner looked about ready to wet himself.

"Please, I didn't think…"

"That's obvious!" Ryan snapped.

"Wolfe, let him go," Jesse urged, easing closer.

"He told Shawna where Amber would be, and she told Dardan to finish the job she hired him for!" Ryan declared forcefully. "You knew this would happen!"

"No!" Flanner pleaded. "She had a right to know where her child was, I didn't realize…"

"What, that she was guilty?!" Ryan roared, making the lawyer cower against the wall.

"Please," he stammered, sweating profusely, "I can help you!"

"For your sake, you'd better hope so," Ryan growled, baring his teeth like a true wolf.

"Shawna Peterson chartered her private jet this morning," Flanner rattled off shakily. "To Mexico. It's leaving at 2 p.m. today. I told her running was against her best interests, but she wouldn't listen. There was nothing I could do!"

"That is for damn certain, you useless piece of crap," Ryan snarled, letting go of him with a hard shove against the wall. Two patrol officers that had been watching hurried forward to detain Flanner.

Ryan looked at his watch: 1:30.

"Jesse, we're going to the airport," he stated without looking back. His sling lay forgotten on the floor.

Too stunned to argue, Jesse hurried forward to join him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Jesse sat in the front seat of the Hummer silently, once in a while shooting nervous glances at Ryan. His friend was driving with an odd look on his face. A seething fury seemed to be radiating off of him, his face hardened in a ferocious glare that he had unblinkingly focused on the road before them. If Ryan had been looking at _him_ like that, Jesse felt as though he'd want to be running very fast in the opposite direction.

"You sure you're okay to drive?" Jesse asked quietly.

"Yep," Ryan answered shortly, not looking at him.

Neither spoke for the rest of the trip. Sirens surrounded them, coming from both their Hummer and the patrol car accompanying them to the airport.

When they arrived at the airport, the security guard opened the gate for them. They drove straight onto the tarmac. Ryan barreled toward a small jet that was parked not too far away, knowing who was inside it.

The stairs were still down on the jet. Ryan silently got out of the Hummer, drew his gun and started marching up the stairs without waiting for anyone else. Jesse hurried after him, followed by the two officers that had come along.

The cockpit was empty. Ryan turned to walk into the passenger area.

Shawna was sitting in one of the plush seats, her hands over her mouth and nose. The calm air of regal confidence was completely gone; her makeup was a mess from crying. Ryan felt no pity for her whatsoever.

"Where's Amber?" he demanded.

"I don't know," she wailed, hyperventilating. "Oh, God!"

"What have you done?!" Ryan yelled at her.

She broke down sobbing into her hands. "My baby… my Amber…"

"Shawna, where is she?" Ryan repeated, his voice cracking.

"I don't know!" she cried. "I don't know, he was supposed to be here an hour ago!"

"He? You mean Dardan Fatmir?"

She nodded, gulping wetly.

"You paid him to kidnap Amber and bring her to you?"

She nodded, bursting into tears again. "I'm so sorry, so so sorry…"

"You don't get to be sorry!" Ryan roared, making her quake.

"Wolfe...," Jesse warned quietly from behind him.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?!" he bellowed, ignoring the tears that were suddenly welling up in his own eyes.

She stared at him, speechless and quivering.

"Dardan Fatmir is an immigrant now under investigation! How long did you expect he would actually stay in the country after we found out about him?" Ryan yelled. "How could you willingly give him Amber and expect him to return her? Just how stupid are you?!"

She hid her face in her shaking hands, wailing like a small child.

"Look at me!" he screamed.

His tone shocked her into obedience.

"Dardan's brother is being hunted for human trafficking!" he continued loudly. "That's exactly who Dardan is going to go to when he's in trouble! You think they're going to give up a little girl like Amber? Compared to what they'd get for her in the market, that 300,000 you gave him is pocket change!"

She shuddered and hugged herself tightly. "I didn't know… I didn't know!" she cried over and over again.

"Because of you, Amber is gone! She's _gone_!" he bellowed. A hot tear of rage spilled down his cheek, but he ignored it. "They'll sell her to the highest bidder and then she'll disappear! Forever! There's no coming back from where they're taking her! Do you have any idea how scared she must be right now?!"

With a roar of frustration and fury, Ryan slammed his fist into the wall, making everyone else jump. He turned away from her in disgust, the tears now flowing freely from his hazel eyes. Breathing heavily, he raised a shaky hand to wipe the warm, salty flecks from his face. He took a deep breath to steady himself.

Ryan turned again to face Shawna, who was frozen in her seat as she stared at him in horror and fear.

"You're supposed to be her mother," he whispered icily, his voice dripping with venom. "You're despicable."

With that, he stormed away. Jesse and the officers flattened themselves against the wall to let him pass, as if they were afraid Ryan would burn them if they touched him. Everyone left on the plane stood dumbfounded for a long time before Jesse finally seemed to remember what they were doing there.

"Hook her up," he told the waiting officers, who seemed to snap out of a trance as they hurried forward to detain Shawna. Jesse returned outside to see what had become of Ryan.

Ryan was standing a few feet off from the jet, seemingly gazing up at the grey sky with his arms folded across his chest. Jesse approached him carefully.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

Ryan sniffed wetly and cleared his throat, hurriedly brushing away the last remnants of his emotional outburst from his face.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he mumbled. He cleared his throat again. "We should get back to the lab, we need to look for that SUV I was chasing. You drive."

Jesse nodded in acquiescence. As Ryan opened the passenger door to climb into the Hummer, the patrolmen were escorting Shawna back down the ramp. Ryan's tirade seemed to have shocked her out of her sobbing; tears poured silently down her face as she stared blankly ahead of her. As she passed him, she suddenly caught his eye and stopped walking.

"I know what I did was horrible," she began.

"Understatement," Ryan snapped coldly.

She gulped. "I can see you care about her. Please, you have to find her. If you do, Amber will never have to hear from me again. I will stay out of her life. Just please find her."

She and Ryan stared at each other for a long moment. Neither one blinked.

Ryan nodded curtly. Without another word to her, he climbed into the Hummer and shut the door. The officers led Shawna away to stow her in the back seat of the squad car. Jesse took to the driver's seat silently. As he pulled away from the jet, rumbling along the tarmac, he risked a glance at his partner.

Ryan sat quietly with his head resting in one hand, his eyes closed. Jesse had never before seen anybody who looked so drained.

As he sat with his eyes closed, Ryan thought of Amber.

He would find her and bring her home. He just had to.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Rain thundered down from the heavens, battering the glass window that Ryan stared out of. His mind's eye repeated the same image over and over: Amber's terrified face as she screamed for Ryan to help her, to save her. It was burned into his heart, making him feel sick.

He rubbed his sore shoulder, starting to feel a little sorry about tossing aside his sling so recklessly. It had been rescued by the receptionist, but he had refused to put it back on. He wanted to be completely ready for anything, which meant he needed both hands free. His head throbbed where he had slammed against the steering wheel. It was hard for him to believe that he had been in that car wreck that same day. Time was moving slower than he ever thought possible, and yet he felt like he had none to spare.

A soft tap on the door startled him out of his thoughts. He turned to see Horatio standing in the doorway, an expression of fatherly worry on his face.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

There were no words to describe the roiling blend of physical and emotional pain crashing through him at the moment, so Ryan simply shook his head.

"We'll find her, Mr. Wolfe."

"How can you be so sure?" Ryan demanded softly, too tired to be angry anymore.

"Because you're on the case," the older man answered simply.

Ryan looked at him doubtfully.

"Mr. Wolfe, you are one of the most gifted CSIs I have ever had the privilege of working with," Horatio told him seriously. "You work tirelessly and meticulously with an eye for detail that is exceptionally rare, even in this field. I've said it before and I will say it again: it's in your blood."

Horatio's phone began ringing, leaving Ryan to ponder what he had just heard.

"Frank," Horatio said into the phone. He listened for a moment. "Where? Excellent. Thank you, Frank."

He hung up the phone with a slight snap. "Tripp found the SUV," he told Ryan. "He's bringing it in now."

{•}

Ryan wandered into the garage casually, his hands in his pockets. Natalia and Jesse were already there processing the SUV. They were talking quietly together as they scoped out the interior with UV lights.

"Honestly, I don't know what Ryan's going to do if we don't find this girl," Natalia was saying quietly. "I'm worried about him."

"Let's just find her, then we won't have to worry about it," Jesse said.

They noticed Ryan approaching, not terribly surprised.

"Doesn't IAB want you at arm's length on this case?" Natalia asked gently.

"I won't come any closer," Ryan told her, holding up his hands in surrender.

"Well, that's a little far for 'arm's length'," she remarked offhandedly. She cast him a sideways glance and smirked.

The grateful smile he gave her warmed her heart. He walked forward, pulling on a pair of gloves. "Find anything yet?"

Jesse turned off his UV light. "There's no blood or other fluids in the car," he said. "We haven't been able to get any prints off it yet, either."

"They probably cleaned it before they dumped it," Natalia commented. The men nodded in agreement.

"Where did Tripp find this?" Ryan asked.

"It was parked outside an old warehouse off Flagler," Jesse replied, taking out a few adhesive strips to begin tape-lifting the upholstery. "They searched the building, but there was no sign anyone had been there in years."

"They probably switched cars to throw us off," Ryan said. He shined a flashlight into the back seat of the passenger side. His heart gave a sickening twist when he realized that Amber had been back there mere hours beforehand, scared out of her life.

He stopped when the beam of light hit something very small and white wedged just under the seat. Ryan grabbed a pair of tweezers and yanked it out. Holding it up to the light, he recognized it as a small tooth.

Amber's tooth.

Ryan frowned. There was a very faint trace of blood near the root, not enough to suggest it had been forcefully knocked out, as if they had hit her or something. But if it had fallen out on its own, there shouldn't be any blood, meaning Amber had wriggled it until she could safely pull it out herself.

Ryan stared at the tooth, remembering the long hours he had spent in that room with her, looking after her as they tried to solve her father's murder. It was hard to believe that was just yesterday. He screwed up his mind in adamant concentration, trying to remember her exact words.

She had showed him the loose tooth, proud of it like all children her age… She had said she wasn't going to pull it out. She was going to let it fall out on its own. Why the sudden change of mind?

"What are you trying to tell me, sweetheart?" Ryan muttered to himself.

As if to answer, a memory suddenly came flooding into his mind. Yesterday in the room, when they had discussed her tooth and angel wings necklace, she had told him about one other thing…

He stood up so fast he startled Natalia and Jesse. He feverishly began shining his flashlight up and down the car window.

"Ryan?" Natalia asked, looking concerned. "What are you doing?"

There. At the very bottom of the window, Ryan's light detected the faintest of smudges.

"Did you find something... no, stop!" Natalia exclaimed.

Ryan had started breathing on the window, fogging up the glass in one spot.

"Stop!" Natalia said again, rushing over to him. "You're getting your DNA all over that, you're compromising evidence!"

Ryan ignored her, staring at the spot his breath had blurred.

Small, messy letters had materialized, but he couldn't make them out.

"I need dusting powder!" he called excitedly. A bewildered Natalia handed it to him. Jesse came over to watch.

Ryan carefully dusted the spot he had breathed on. The transparent smudge he had found began taking shape.

"What the…" Natalia breathed.

"B-E-Z-N-I-K," Jesse read, frowning. "What the hell does that mean? What's a 'beznik'?"

"I have no idea, but Amber left me this message for a reason," Ryan said flatly.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

At this point, the entire department was buzzing about the case. Everyone from the lab techs to the patrol officers, from the receptionists to the M.E. orderlies were talking about Ryan and his unbelievable devotion to finding this little girl he had only known for a day. Everyone knew about the car chase, the accident, his encounter with Flanner, and his blowup at Amber's mother. They were all in awe of him, skirting around him in the hallways, either because they didn't want to jinx him in his search or because they were afraid he'd bite them if they got too close.

Ryan stared at the computer screen in an empty lab room, not noticing the few people that hovered just outside the door, watching him. They were all so intrigued by him, enflamed by his tireless work ethic, drawing strength and drive from his.

Calleigh shouldered her way through the small crowd, looking bemusedly around at the awestruck faces of her colleagues. She walked into the room to put her hand on Ryan's shoulder.

"You have a fan club," she muttered wickedly.

Ryan spun around to look out the door behind him. The people standing there jumped and scurried off to return to their own tasks. Despite himself, Ryan smirked wryly.

"I'm sorry if I'm being a little intense…," he began.

She stopped him. "You don't have to explain yourself to me," she said gently. "I want to get Amber back, too. I didn't spend as much time with her as you and Natalia, but I understand where your fire comes from. She's the kind of kid that gets into your heart, no matter how hard you try to be guarded."

Ryan looked at her. She was gazing straight into his eyes, her green eyes alive with compassion. It was as if she was reading into the very depths of his soul.

"I know you, Ryan," she continued softly. "You keep people at a distance, never letting anyone in. You prefer to work alone, but something about her got to you. I'm going to do whatever it takes to help you get her back."

Ryan was speechless at her, his chest tight with emotion. He didn't know what to say to such deep understanding.

She smiled at him. "You're welcome," she said, interpreting his silent gratefulness. "So, have you figured out what Amber's message meant?"

Her question jolted him back to what he was doing. "As far as I can see, it can mean anything," he admitted. "There are cities called Beznik in Poland and Czech Republic."

"Maybe that's where they're taking her?" she guessed.

"There aren't any flights or ships to either country scheduled out of Florida today," he said. "I think they would want to get out of here as soon as possible. I think they're going to run for it today."

Calleigh instinctively looked at her watch. There wasn't much time left.

"Amber had to think this word was important," Ryan remarked. "She's a smart kid."

They both thought silently for a while.

"Tripp found the car outside a warehouse off of Flagler, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, a few miles east of where I lost them," Ryan said.

"East? That's a little weird…," she remarked quietly.

"How so?"

"Well, if I was trying to get as far away from the cops as possible, I would head west, inland," she explained. "It would be much easier to lose someone out there. Going east pins them up against the ocean."

They looked at each other suddenly, their minds clicking in unison.

"Unless they're heading for a boat," she finished, eyes shining.

"But there aren't any ships heading to Beznik today," Ryan pointed out.

Calleigh thought hard. "What if it's not the name of the destination? Maybe it's the…"

"Name of the boat?" they finished together.

Ryan hurriedly typed out a search word on the computer. "There's a shipping dock about five miles from where Tripp found the SUV. There's a number."

He whipped out his phone and dialed. As it rang, he looked at Calleigh. "How would Amber know the name of the boat?"

Calleigh shrugged. "They probably thought she was too scared or stupid to try getting a message to you. They probably talked about their whole plan right in front of her."

"Yes, hello?" Ryan said into the phone. "This is CSI Ryan Wolfe with Miami-Dade PD. I need some information regarding your schedule today. Is there a ship called the Beznik, B-E-Z-N-I-K, sailing out today?"

Ryan could hear the man on the other end rifling through some papers. "No," he said.

Ryan's heart sank.

"But there is a ship called the Yllia Besnik, B-E-_S_-N-I-K, supposed to leave at 5. She's a handysize freighter taking about a dozen containers out. That the one you mean?"

"What company is that ship with?" Ryan asked, his heart racing. Calleigh watched him, on edge. Ryan put the phone on speaker so she could hear too.

"It's an independent runner," the man answered. "Just one ship that takes any excess cargo for the bigger lines if they overstock. The guy who owns it comes through once in a while looking for work. He just got into Miami five days ago. He was supposed to be here for another week, but today he tells me he wants to push his departure to this evening."

"Do you know the captain's name?"

"Nah, he's some foreign fella. Funny accent, you know?" the man grunted. "We keep records of the ships, not so much the captains. They change too often."

Ryan looked at his watch and his heart nearly stopped: 4:43.

"Sir, listen to me very carefully," Ryan said, fighting to keep his voice calm. "We need you to stop that ship from leaving. We believe the captain is using it to smuggle kidnapped girls out of the country."

The man on the other end swore loudly. "I'll do what I can, but they're already preparing to shove off! You cops need to get out here now if you want to catch 'em!"

Ryan hung up the phone with a snap. He met Calleigh's eyes for one second, then dead-sprinted out of the room. Calleigh ran to catch up.

At the sight of Ryan hurtling down the hallway, everyone got out of the way quickly.

"Ryan!" Calleigh called.

He ignored her, ramming open the door to the stairwell. He leapt down them three at a time, nearly taking out multiple people in the process. Calleigh followed as fast as she could.

Ryan didn't stop running as he bolted through the station, making everyone stop and stare. He exploded out the front door into the torrential rain. His feet splashed across the concrete as he bolted toward a Hummer. Calleigh followed him outside, ignoring the rain.

She reached the Hummer as Ryan was turning the ignition and buckling his seatbelt. "You need to wait for backup!" she told him, yelling to make herself heard over the downpour.

"You heard him, Cal, that ship is leaving _now_," Ryan said, punching the car into reverse. "I need you to tell the rest of the team what's happening. Meet me at the dock as soon as you can!"

"What are you going to do by yourself?" she demanded.

"I don't know," he said as he pulled away from the curb and took off into the storm.

{•}

Ryan didn't even remember driving. His mind was closed to anything else other than getting to that ship before it left. He blasted onto the dock, aiming for the Yllia Besnik, which he could see resting in the last port down.

He stopped the Hummer at the beginning of the dock, drawing his gun as he leapt out. He didn't see anyone on the dock or on the ship. The dock was high off the water; he was eye level with the side railing of the ship. With a wave of fear he realized the ship was quickly pulling out of the harbor.

He had to do something. He didn't have time to wait for backup. In the instant that Ryan decided what to do, he knew he was nuts.

He decided he didn't care.

Taking a breath, Ryan began sprinting full out down the dock. The ship was nearing the end of it. He slipped a little on the wet wood beneath his feet, but he refused to fall. His feet pounded faster and faster as he picked up speed.

Then, with a flying leap, he launched himself off the dock toward the ship.

For one blinding moment, he knew he was falling into the water, this had been a stupid idea, but then his chest collided with the ship and his hands clutched the railing above his head.

His sore shoulder flared painfully, his hands creaking from the iron grip he had fastened onto the railing. Slowly, desperately, he hauled himself up, ignoring the horrible burn in his shoulders and abs, and flung himself over the side. He landed roughly on the deck, hidden behind a large, blue shipping container. He lay there for a moment, feeling the rain splash his face and hands.

Ryan started laughing like one crazed.

"Great idea, Wolfe," he muttered to himself dazedly. "Now what, dumbass?"


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

When the two other CSI Hummers arrived on the dock, accompanied by three squad cars, Calleigh immediately knew something bad had happened. The rain continued to pour down outside as everyone got out of their cars.

"There's Ryan's Hummer," Natalia called, pointing. They hurried toward it, but the driver's seat was empty.

"Ryan?" she called, looking wildly around. "Ryan?!"

No answer.

"Wolfe, where are you?" Jesse yelled.

"What if he's hurt somewhere?" Calleigh wondered aloud.

"Officers, search the area, please," Horatio ordered. The patrolmen hastened to obey.

"Wait, look!" Natalia yelled. She pointed out to sea. Barely visible through the icy curtains of rain, they discerned the shadowy outline of a freight ship about 300 yards out. "You think that's our boat?"

The four CSIs looked at each other, putting everything together.

Natalia's jaw dropped. "He didn't…," she breathed, gazing out at the ship.

"Oh, I think he did," Calleigh said.

"We need the Coast Guard," Horatio said quickly, walking away to make the call.

{•}

On board the ship, Ryan was starting to feel exceptionally foolish. He watched as Miami steadily dropped away, the ship making haste toward open water. Even if he did find Amber, how was he supposed to get her back to land, swim? He snorted at his own ridiculous notion.

His only hope was the team. They had to find a way to stop the ship.

Ryan started when he realized what an idiot he was being. He needed to let the team know that he was okay for the moment, but wouldn't be for long if they didn't get out here. He dug his phone out of his pocket to call Horatio.

He was about to hit the send button when a blinding pain crashed through the back of his head and he collapsed.

{•}

A splash of ice-cold seawater woke Ryan with a start. The gash on his head had reopened; the salt burned deep. With a start, he realized he was tied to a chair.

"Good evening, Officer," said a rich, baritone voice behind him.

Ryan recognized the accent; it was the same one Dardan had.

"Shestan Fatmir?" Ryan asked without turning.

The voice chuckled. "My brother said you were good."

The laughing voices of multiple men surrounded him. One man leaned nonchalantly against the helm and three more lined the walls. They all had the same look about them; dirty, hardened criminals. They all had the same olive-colored skin and black hair. Some sported beards or mustaches, others were clean-shaven.

Ryan looked around. Someone moved into his line of sight.

It was Dardan.

Ryan lunged forward, temporarily forgetting he was tied down. A spark of fear leapt into Dardan's eyes but quickly died.

"Nice to see you again, Officer Wolfe," Dardan said. "Alive. I thought for certain you had died in that car wreck. What a relief to see you… unharmed."

A few men chuckled.

"You know, Amber has been talking about nothing but you all day!" he sneered. "She was ever so upset when she saw your car smashed against that truck."

"I'll kill you, you son of a bitch!" Ryan growled, fighting against his bonds. "Where is she?!"

"Officer Wolfe, that is simply no way to talk to someone," Shestan said.

"Where's Amber?!" Ryan roared.

"She's here, she's completely safe," Dardan said. "And unharmed, for which you should be thanking me on bended knee. I would have liked to … test her potential, you see… But we get far more money for … pure … products."

Ryan bellowed like an enraged wild animal and lunged again at Dardan. He succeeded only in knocking himself over, but Dardan jumped back in fear all the same.

"That's enough, brother," Shestan said oily. "Our friend has been through a lot today. It would be unkind to antagonize him further."

"I swear to God, I will kill all of you!" Ryan snarled.

The men laughed again.

"That will be fun to see," Shestan rumbled amusedly. "While you're working on that, we'll continue on to the marketplace. Our clientele are waiting, and I can think of a few that would be especially pleased to meet your little friend."

Ryan's stomach twisted in revulsion.

"Do you have any idea how much we can sell her for?" Shestan asked calmly. "A young, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, _American _virgin? The buyers will be lining the streets!"

Ryan gave a ferocious but futile kick in his direction.

"I suppose we could try to sell you somewhere," Shestan continued, "though I don't see you fetching much of a price. Perhaps we could throw you in for free to whoever buys the girl, to thank them for their purchase. At least then you wouldn't be separated."

With an almighty lurch, Ryan threw all of his weight against the chair, which no one had bothered to pick up off the floor, and slammed himself backward. He collided with someone, who grunted in pain and surprise.

Dardan kicked him in the chest. The edges of Ryan's vision went dark as he reeled from the blow.

"Are you all right, brother?"

"I'm fine!" barked Shestan. He did not sound nearly so cool and collected anymore. "On second thought, his personality is far too uncooperative to sell."

He gestured to two of his men. "Throw him overboard."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Horatio stood on the bow of the Coast Guard ship as it began pulling out of the harbor. Calleigh stood beside him; Natalia and Jesse were close by.

The ship picked up speed as they began racing for open water. The bright orange helicopters escorting them circled once, then took off toward the horizon.

The trafficking ship had a big head start on them. If they were going to catch it, they would have to be perfect.

"Horatio?"

He turned to look at Calleigh, who was gazing at the open water with a stone-like expression on her face.

"What happens if we don't catch them before they reach international waters?" she asked quietly.

Horatio didn't say anything. He didn't want to think about the answer.

{•}

"Hope you like fish, Officer Wolfe, because you're about to sleep with them!" guffawed the man who was pushing him forward.

"Wow, that's really clever," Ryan drawled, trying to loosen the rope around his hands, which were tied in front of him. "Did you think of that all by yourself?"

The man chuckled. "I love your American movies. The Godfather? Classic."

The rope burned into his wrists as Ryan continued trying to wriggle free.

"You're not getting out of that," the man said. "We're sailors. If there's anything we know how to do, it's how to tie a good knot."

"Good for you," Ryan muttered.

The two men escorting him were walking him all the way back to the stern. They were going to throw him off the back of the ship; there would be no way for him to grab back onto the ship somehow once they were in front of him. Even if he could swim after them with his hands tied, he could never swim that fast.

They stopped when they reached the very end of the boat.

"Would you like to jump, or shall we push you?" the second man asked.

Ryan thought hard and fast, but few of his ideas were looking too promising. "I'll take the push, thanks," he said, trying to sound casual.

The men laughed. The one who liked American movies pushed Ryan forward so that he was pressed up against the edge of the ship, looking over the railing and down at the foaming ocean.

The man gave Ryan a shove.

Without really thinking, Ryan spun around and slammed both of his fists into the man's nose, feeling it break under his blow. He bellowed in pain. His partner pulled a gun from a side holster under his jacket and aimed at Ryan.

The CSI grabbed the broken-nosed man and threw him in front of him as a shield. The partner was not as quick; he fired two rounds into his friend's chest, killing him. Ryan shoved the dead man into his partner, who wasn't ready for it. He crumpled under the dead man's weight.

Ryan stomped on the hand that held the gun, prying it from the man's fingers. He looked down at the wide-eyed man coldly.

"It was really stupid to tie my hands in the front," he said quietly.

He kicked the man in the head as hard as he could, knocking him out. Ryan panted with the exertion and adrenaline. The rain soaked his leather jacket and his hair, but he barely noticed. With a huge effort, Ryan managed to drag the two men to the side of the ship and tossed them overboard. He watched, oddly detached, as their bodies splashed into the roiling sea and disappeared into the depths.

Ryan shook all over, both from the wet cold and from having just killed two men. He couldn't let himself think about that, though. He had to find Amber.

Ryan found a sharp edge on the deck and sawed the rope off his hands. He rubbed the feeling back into them, wincing at the stinging red welts.

Ryan popped out the gun's magazine and was disappointed to find he only had four bullets left. With a cold jolt, he realized that he only had one bullet per man left on the ship.

He couldn't miss, and he had to shoot to kill.

Ryan tucked the gun in the back of his jeans, pulling his black t-shirt over it. Finished, he steadied himself and began slowly exploring the shipping containers on the deck. He walked between them, listening hard for any sounds of life within.

He was finished inspecting about half of them when a loud bang ripped the air. A dazzling shot of fire blasted through the back of his leg, above the knee. With a yell, Ryan fell to the deck, writhing. He put a hand to the bullet wound; it came away bloody.

The man who had shot him stalked up to him slowly. "Well, well," he growled lowly. "Look who's still alive."

Shestan appeared behind the shooter, looking enraged. "Put him below with the others," he ordered, eyeing Ryan with utmost hatred.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

Ryan tried to ignore the dizzying pain radiating from the bullet hole in his hamstring. He could barely walk, but they still made him. They marched him back toward the bridge, but instead of climbing the stairs upward, they ushered him into an empty room on deck level.

They did not stop there. They continued down a dim hallway until they came to the last room. Upon opening the door, Ryan was led into a finely furnished state room, probably the captain's. One of the men knelt on the ground and swept aside part of the rug. Beneath it was a trap door. He pulled it open with a creak.

"Get down there!" Shestan snarled, mercilessly kicking him right in the bleeding wound on his leg.

Ryan staggered from the blow, losing his balance and falling through the door into a dimly lit hold. The drop was not far, but he landed right on his sore shoulder. He yelled in pain. Laughing, the men closed the door above him.

A few things happened at once. First, Ryan was startled by the sudden terrified screams of what sounded like at least five women. Then, a much younger voice let out a shriek, not one of fear but of jubilation. Someone launched herself at Ryan, knocking him over again.

"Ryan!" Amber screamed. "Ryan! You came for me! You came! I knew you would!"

She hugged him tight around the neck, hysterically crying and laughing at the same time into his shoulder. Ryan was too stunned to react at first, but then he grabbed her tight and held her close. His exhausted and pain-riddled mind could barely comprehend what was happening. He closed his eyes and just sat there holding her for what felt like an eternity.

Ryan didn't care what happened next. He had Amber back. He had his girl.

Reluctantly, Amber pulled away from him to survey him, as if she didn't fully believe he was actually there. Her eyes suddenly found the small puddle of blood dripping from the back of his leg.

"You're hurt!" she gasped.

He smiled weakly at her. "I'm okay now. I found you."

"This is him?"

Ryan looked past Amber and remembered with a jolt that they weren't alone. Six women ranging approximately 18-24 years old were huddled in the small hold with them. They all looked terrified. One woman with short, dark hair was staring at Ryan in utter disbelief.

"Yes," Amber said. She smiled at Ryan. "This is my policeman."

"Did you bring reinforcements?" a shivering redhead asked shrilly. "Are we getting out of here?"

Ryan didn't know what to say to her. "My team is tracking us," he finally answered. "They'll find a way to stop the ship."

"But what if they don't?" she demanded hysterically.

"We can't think like that," a brunette chided. She seemed to be the only one that was keeping her head. "We're going to be okay."

She looked at Ryan. "Do you need medical attention? I'm a med student."

The brunette stood up and walked over to him. "Let's see," she ordered briskly.

Taken aback by her tone, Ryan obediently knelt on his left knee, putting all of his weight onto his right leg. She knelt down behind him to inspect the bullet wound.

For some odd reason, Ryan's heart did a somersault when she touched his leg, and not because of the pain.

After a moment's consideration, the brunette turned to Amber. "Can you go to the corner and get me the cleanest looking shirt you can find, sweetie?"

Amber nodded and hastened off to obey.

"They left us some clothes down here with a little bit of water and crappy food. My name's Eleanor, but please don't call me that," she whispered into his ear. "You can call me Ellie."

"Nice to meet you, Ellie," Ryan mumbled back. "I'm Ryan."

"So I've heard," she said dryly. "Amber's been talking about you the whole time. She kept telling us you would come for us." She chuckled gracefully. "I didn't believe her."

"Don't give me too much credit," he told her quietly. "We're not out of trouble yet."

{•}

Horatio watched as the Coast Guard drew closer to their target. The ship was now in sight, though still a few minutes off. Time was running out.

_Hang in there, Mr. Wolfe_, he thought. _We're coming._

{•}

"So, how did you get here?" Ryan asked tightly, gritting his teeth against the pain. Ellie had ripped a red t-shirt into shreds and was busily tying them tightly around his leg to stop the bleeding.

"They grabbed me right off my college campus," she answered quietly. "Serves me right for walking home alone at night."

"No, this wasn't your fault," he told her sternly. She gave him a small smile.

"Amber was right, you're sweet," Ellie teased. She finished tying the last strip over the wound. "You're done. Can you stand?"

He got up shakily, hesitantly putting weight on his left leg. It wavered, but held. "Nice job," he told her gratefully.

"Look at me," she said gently.

He did. Her face was concerned. She cast a wary glance toward Amber. The girl was fiddling with her necklace in the far corner, not looking at them. Ellie looked back at Ryan.

"You're really pale," she remarked quietly. She put a hand to one side of his face. Her touch was soft and warm. "You're cold and clammy, too. You've lost a lot of blood."

Ryan swallowed hard, trying to keep the worry out of his face. "How bad is it?" he asked softly.

She chewed on her lip. Ryan was shocked to see tears well up in her eyes. "It's not good," she whispered. "The bandage will only slow the bleeding. You need surgery to stop it. The bullet looks like it may have clipped your femoral artery."

Ryan nodded in understanding. "How long?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

Her ice-blue eyes were piercing, but luminous. Ryan didn't think he'd ever seen a more beautiful color.

"A few hours tops."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

The trap door above them was suddenly wrenched open. The women all cried out and flattened themselves against the wall. Ryan shielded Ellie and Amber from view.

Shestan's fierce face appeared in the hole. He aimed a gun down at Ryan's head. "You," he snarled. "Get your ass up here right now."

Ryan glared up at him for a moment, then began limping toward the ladder.

"No!" Amber cried. She threw herself at Ryan and hugged him tight around the waist. He put a hand behind her head and held her close. She sobbed into his black t-shirt.

"I don't want you to go," she sobbed. "Please don't go!"

"I have to go, Amber," he murmured soothingly to her, stroking her hair. He kissed the top of her head. "Stay with Ellie."

He took off his leather jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. "Go on."

Amber hesitantly let him go, tears flowing freely from her blue eyes. She backed up until she met Ellie, who put an arm around her. Amber pulled the jacket closer around her.

Ryan smiled at Amber one more time before climbing the ladder up into the stateroom.

Shestan and Dardan were waiting for him at the top, looking more furious than ever. "Move," Shestan hissed menacingly.

Ryan led the way through the hallway and up the hidden stairs to the bridge. He could see it had stopped raining. The last two shipmen left were waiting there, looking oddly panicked.

"Look," Shestan snapped, jerking his gun toward the window.

Ryan turned to look and his heart gave a leap.

Three Coast Guard ships surrounded the freighter. Two orange helicopters circled overhead. On the bow of the flagship stood a familiar figure with red hair and sunglasses.

A stern voice came over a PA system. "This is the United States Coast Guard. Turn off your engine and prepare to be boarded."

Shestan glared at Ryan. "Give me the radio," he barked at Dardan. His brother hurriedly obeyed.

"This is the captain speaking," Shestan declared, his voice carrying over the freighter's own PA. "We have your police officer on board. Let us pass or he dies!"

He jammed the gun into the small of Ryan's back, forcing him to move forward until he was in clear view. Ryan gazed down at the Coast Guard ships. He saw Horatio, Calleigh, Natalia and Jesse all clustered on the bow of the flagship with binoculars. He nodded to them.

Horatio put down his binoculars and hastened away from the bow. The other three looked up at Ryan with helpless expressions on their faces.

Shestan continued addressing the Coast Guard. "He's seriously injured. I will give him to you if you let us through."

He kneed Ryan's wound. Ryan gasped and faltered, but quickly stood up straight, his teeth clenched. He saw Calleigh take a step forward. Natalia's chin was quivering. Jesse looked as if he was made of stone.

A familiar voice came over the Coast Guard PA. "This is Lieutenant Horatio Caine of the Miami-Dade police. I want to speak to my officer alone."

"Nice try, Caine!" Shestan yelled. "You think I'm going to just let him walk over there for a chat and believe he'll come right back? I don't think so!"

"I'm going to call his cell phone," Horatio said calmly. "You will let him take the call."

Shestan looked at Dardan, who shrugged. "You have five minutes, Caine!"

Immediately Ryan's phone began to ring. He drew it out of his pocket, his hands shaking from the blood loss. He pressed it to his ear.

"This is Wolfe," he said quietly.

"Mr. Wolfe, I want you to listen to me very carefully. I need you to give me as much information as possible without giving away what we're discussing. Understood?"

"Yeah, H."

"All right. Are you injured?"

"Yes."

"Is it serious?"

Ryan gulped. "Yes." He could see Horatio returning to the bow to stand with the other CSIs. His face was creased with worry. The others watched him anxiously.

"Okay. Have you found Amber?"

"Yes."

Shestan shifted nervously behind him, not liking the fact that he could only hear one half of the conversation.

"Is she in a shipping container?"

"No."

"Is she in a hold below deck?"

"Yes."

"How many men are on the ship?"

Ryan looked at his watch. "At about 4 o'clock."

"Four men, okay. Are they all on the bridge with you?"

"Yes."

"Are they armed?"

"Yes."

Horatio paused for a moment. "Mr. Wolfe, I want to take Shestan up on his offer."

"No!" Ryan cried.

"You need medical attention immediately. We can track the ship after we get you out."

"No," Ryan repeated stubbornly.

"Mr. Wolfe, I know Amber is important to you, but sometimes we have to admit defeat for a little while until we can regroup. I promise you, we will get these guys next time."

"There won't be a next time."

Ryan's tone surprised himself as well as Horatio. It was so calm, chillingly so. He slowly began to realize what he was saying. Ryan supposed he had known it since he had chased that SUV from Natalia's house that morning.

He was prepared to save Amber.

By any means necessary.

Ryan looked out to sea. The sunset had lit the sky afire with dazzling hues of pink and orange. The last remnants of that afternoon's rainclouds added strips of deep purple to the spectacle. The water sparkled like liquid fire, the surface glittering like a many-faceted crystal. It was truly beautiful.

"Mr. Wolfe?"

Ryan returned his gaze down to the bow of the Coast Guard ship. Horatio was staring up at him, comprehension dawning on his face.

"Promise me something, H."

Horatio didn't answer, only stood dumbstruck.

"Promise me you'll look after Amber."

Horatio's face was suddenly stricken. "Mr. Wolfe…"

"Do you remember what you said to me this morning in the break room, H? About this job being in my blood?" Ryan asked quietly. His heart felt like it was in his throat, but his eyes were dry.

"I remember," Horatio replied, truly frightened now.

"That really meant a lot to me."

Horatio paused, suddenly understanding. "Mr. Wolfe, are you armed?" he whispered, paling.

"Yes."

Horatio's jaw dropped in horror. "No, no! Ryan, wait don't…"

Ryan ignored him. He turned slowly to face the four men standing behind him. Dardan looked scared. Shestan was eyeing him suspiciously.

"Goodbye, H."

"NO!" Horatio screamed, but it was too late.

In one motion, Ryan hung up the phone, reached behind him and pulled out the gun he had hidden down his jeans.

His first shot hit Shestan in the chest. He went down with a cry of surprise. The next shot caught one of the sailors right between the eyes. The third dispatched the other one with a kill shot straight to the heart.

Ryan leveled the gun at Dardan, who was trembling and stuttering like a witless coward.

"Please!" he begged, tears falling from his eyes. "Please don't kill me! We can negotiate! I'll do anything, anything!"

Ryan stared him down, lightning sparking in his merciless eyes.

"You lost the right to negotiate the moment you took Amber," Ryan hissed icily.

"Please, have mercy!" Dardan begged.

Ryan was silent for a moment.

"You don't deserve any," he whispered. Then he pulled the trigger.

The bullet hit Dardan square in the throat. Choking and hacking on his own blood, he sank to the floor. He stared up at Ryan, his life leaking all over the place.

Ryan looked down at him, determined to watch him die. "Burn in hell, you son of a bitch," he whispered.

With one final shudder, Dardan lay still.

Ryan leaned back against the console behind him, unable to remain standing. He was shaking all over. He let the gun fall from his hand. Four bullets, four kills.

Ryan looked out the window. The Coast Guard was hurrying to board the freighter. He let out a sigh of relief. It might take some time for them to find the stairs up to the bridge, as they had been fairly well hidden inside. At any rate, they would locate the kidnapped women first. They would be the first priority of the rescue team. Ryan smiled despite himself; he was certain Horatio would be leading the advance.

"Keep smiling, asshole!"

Ryan jumped as Shestan pushed himself off the ground, his triumphant leer a bloody grimace. He raised his gun slowly.

Ryan was too hurt and stunned to move. A cold wave broke over him as he realized what was about to happen.

Shestan fired twice.

The world dropped out from beneath Ryan. He felt as though suddenly everything had flicked into slow motion. Ryan looked down at his chest.

One bullet had pierced him on the right side, just beneath his collarbone. The other had hit him in the abdomen, beneath his rib cage on the right side. He put a numb hand to the second wound and was almost surprised to see the crimson bloom that leaked onto it.

Ryan looked at Shestan. The man gave a harsh laugh of victory, then fell back to the ground, dead. His last laugh left a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Ryan swayed, then dropped to his knees. It was surprisingly painless. His entire body had gone numb, though he felt dreadfully cold all of a sudden.

His mind gradually drifted away as he knelt there for what felt like years. Ryan gazed around the cabin, taking in the sight of the four dead bodies littering the floor.

His foggy mind suddenly clicked to Amber. Ryan smiled sadly to himself. He wished he could have seen her grow up, that would have been nice. He just knew she would grow up to be a strong, clever, beautiful woman.

But if one of them had to die, Ryan much preferred that it was him.

Overcome by weakness, he collapsed onto his left side. As he lay there, not regretting his death a single bit, he closed his eyes and let the darkness take him.


	17. Chapter 17

Author's Note: **PLEASE READ, I promise it won't take long. **I just wanted to thank all of you for sticking with me this week. This is by far my best and favorite story. My masterpiece, if you will :P. All of your reviews and comments have been incredibly encouraging.

I **highly recommend**, before you start reading this chapter, that you open a new tab or window, go to youtube and search for "Enter One Sol Seppy." It's a song that should last about 5 or 6 minutes. Pause it for now. When you get to the part where **Amber starts running** (if you pay attention you'll know what I'm talking about), hit play. It adds an effect to the following text that I can't even describe. It damn near broke my heart when I did it, but in a good way of course. ;)

Now, without further ado, I proudly present the final two chapters of "Guardian." Happy reading!

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

"This way, sir," a young Coast Guard officer said, leading Horatio down a dim hallway quickly. "Smuggling ships often keep their most valuable merchandise in rooms beneath the deck. More often than not, the way into the hold would be hidden somewhere in the captain's stateroom."

"I want to find the way to the bridge immediately," Horatio argued.

"We have to secure the hostages first, sir! I have men working on the entrance to the bridge, but it seems the traffickers welded the door shut and then blockaded it from the inside. There must be a hidden entrance somewhere to the bridge, but it could take a while to find. Smugglers are very tricky like that."

The two men, followed by a handful of reinforcements, burst into the fancy room devoted to the captain. They fanned out, searching for any hidden doors or catches.

Horatio watched as the Coast Guard did their work. "This is the Coast Guard and Miami-Dade Police!" he yelled. "Can you hear us? Where are you?"

At first there was silence, then muffled voices could be heard beneath the floorboards.

"We're down here!"

"Help us!"

Horatio knelt down on the ground, looking for a way down there. He swept aside the rug to reveal the trap door. He pulled on it with all his might to reveal the hold below. Half a dozen frightened looking women stared up at him.

Horatio held his hand down to them. "Come on out, ladies," he said coaxingly.

They hesitated, then one by one began climbing the ladder out of the hold. Horatio assisted them as they emerged. From there the Coast Guard officers began shepherding them outside to board the other ship.

Horatio smiled when he saw Amber at the bottom of the ladder. She was being gently prodded forward by a young brunette. "Come on, Amber," he said quietly.

The little girl looked up at him with red, weepy eyes, then began climbing. The brunette followed.

"You're safe now, ladies," he told them.

"Thank you, Officer," Ellie said gratefully, but her eyes were worried.

Horatio looked at Amber, who was staring out the door, her small frame wrapped in a leather jacket that he recognized as Ryan's. Without a word to him, Amber bolted out the door.

"Amber!" Horatio and Ellie called, but she paid them no heed. Horatio left Ellie with the Coast Guard as he chased after the little girl.

Amber ran as fast as she could, tears pouring from her eyes. She knew there was only one reason why Ryan wouldn't be the one to come get her.

Horatio hurried after her, knowing exactly where she was going. But she didn't run outside to get into the bridge; instead she ducked into an empty room and threw open a wall panel. Horatio gaped as she disappeared inside it. She had somehow known where to find the secret entrance to the bridge.

Amber dashed up the narrow staircase the bad man had used when he had taken her to the steering room that morning. He had shown her to another man, his brother, up there. She knew in her heart that was where she would find Ryan.

Amber shoved open the door that led into the bridge. She stopped dead still.

Behind the blocked door to the outside, she could hear people trying to get in. Four dead men, the ones that had tried to hurt her, were on the floor, lying in pools of their own blood. She tore her eyes from their lifeless forms to look around the room. Her breath caught in her chest.

She had found Ryan.

She ran to him. He was lying on his side, his face frighteningly pale. He looked completely at peace; he was very still. She could barely hear his breathing, which was coming in shallow, labored gasps.

Amber placed a hand on his shoulder and gently rolled him onto his back. She gasped when she saw the two bullet holes in his chest. His black t-shirt, disguising the red stains, was shiny with blood.

"Ryan?" she whispered. He stirred just barely.

Horatio burst through the door, panting. His eyes quickly took in the four bodies, and then his friend lying on the floor with Amber beside him. His heart clenched painfully. Amber turned to him.

"He's alive!" she exclaimed.

Without a word, Horatio disappeared back down the stairs to fetch a medical team.

"Ryan?" she whispered again, tears welling up in her eyes. "Please, wake up."

He stirred again. His eyes cracked open just barely. He tried to smile.

"Amber," he murmured, his lips barely moving.

She smiled at him, a tear dripping onto his chest She took his hand in both of hers.

"I'll take care of you now," she told him softly.

He smiled at her. "I know you will."

She put down his hand and reached behind her neck, undoing the delicate clasp of her necklace. The silver angel wing charm glinted in the orange sunlight as she lifted it off her neck. She took his cold hand in hers, gently placed the necklace in his blood-stained palm and closed fingers around it.

Ryan painstakingly lifted his hand to gaze at the small chain. Unable to maintain the effort, he let his hand drop back to the floor.

"It'll protect you," she told him, smiling shakily.

"But you need this," Ryan protested weakly.

"No, I don't," she corrected quietly. "I have you."

Ryan looked at her, his failing heart full of too much to express. A single tear escaped the corner of his eye. "You always will," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

Amber understood his expression, more tears tracing silent paths down her face. "Please, don't leave me," she begged him.

Her plea made his heart ache with sorrow. "I'm sorry, Amber," he murmured, the last of his body's warmth spent.

His strength was fading fast. He had saved as much as he could to see Amber one more time, but his deepest instincts told him that it was almost time to let go.

The door to the stairs burst open once more, admitting Horatio, followed by a team of two field medics. They began taking equipment out of their jump bags hurriedly, examining their patient as they worked. Horatio went to kneel just behind Amber, his whole body numb as he gazed at Ryan.

Ryan gave Horatio a weak smile, which was returned. They didn't need to say anything; they understood each other perfectly.

Ryan returned his gaze to Amber, ignoring the field medics. They had begun cutting off his shirt to get a better look at the bullet wounds.

"I need you to be brave for me, Amber," Ryan whispered. He gave her a shaky smile. His voice grew quieter with every word. His eyes began drifting out of focus as his eyelids began flickering shut.

"I will," she promised, trying to suppress her sobs.

His eyes shut and didn't open again.

"Ryan?" Amber gasped.

He didn't move.

"Ryan?!" she said louder.

A medic rubbed his knuckles roughly along Ryan's sternum to check for response. "Officer Wolfe, can you hear me?"

Nothing happened.

The medic felt for a heartbeat in Ryan's neck and leaned over to listen for breath. "He's not breathing and I can't feel a pulse! Get the AED, I'll start compressions!"

Amber cried out. "No, Ryan!" she shrieked, trying to reach out to him, but Horatio had gently taken hold of her and was pulling her away from Ryan.

The medic breathed into Ryan's mouth through an air mask and began chest compressions as his partner unloaded a box-like machine. She took out two rectangular adhesive patches and placed them on Ryan's chest, one beneath his right shoulder and the other on his left side.

"Ryan, don't leave me!" she screamed, fighting against Horatio's grasp. "I love you!"

"Reading," said the female medic. "He's in V-fib, we need to shock. Clear!"

The man doing compression stopped and put his hands up. The woman pressed a large green button on the box. There was a loud beep and Ryan's still form jerked.

The woman read the monitor again. "Still nothing," she reported. "Shocking again, clear!"

Another jolt was delivered.

Amber stopped fighting Horatio. She sobbed unabashedly as she watched the medics try to revive her hero, her Ryan. Every shock they gave him, every chest compression, felt like a blow to her own heart.

He had come for her when no one else had. He had found her when no one else could.

Her guardian angel.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

_Two Weeks Later_

Amber took a deep breath to steady herself. She wasn't sure she was ready to do it.

A hand rested on her shoulder. She looked up at Horatio's kind face. He gave her a reassuring smile.

"You ready, Amber?" he asked.

She sniffed a little, but she was all cried out. She felt as though she wouldn't be able to shed another tear for a very long time.

"I guess," she whispered sadly.

She took a hesitant step forward, then walked through the gate into the cemetery, Horatio two steps behind.

Amber led the way to the grave, a small bouquet of daisies clutched in her hands. She passed elaborate obelisks of alabaster, adorned with stone-faced angels and spires, and simpler tombstones of black marble and granite.

"Your aunt should be meeting us at the lab around 3," Horatio told her. "Are you all packed?"

"Yes," she answered. Amber had been staying with Amy Kensington, her friend from school, for the past couple of weeks until the investigation had come to an official close. Now that it was over, she would be moving to Palm Beach to live with her aunt.

She walked on, her heart full of sorrow. Amber didn't want to leave, fearing that doing so would make her forget. She was afraid to forget; her memory of him had already begun fading away, even though he had only died two weeks ago.

Horatio seemed to be reading her mind. "Palm Beach isn't that far away at all," he assured her. "You can come visit whenever you'd like."

She smiled. "I'd like that," she said without looking at him.

They reached the grave they were looking for. Amber stopped to look down at the powdery white tombstone, gently laying the daisies at its base. Horatio stood back to give her space.

Amber gazed at the stone in silence for a long time, her thoughts clamoring, confused.

"I still can't believe he's really gone," she whispered.

"Well, Amber...," Horatio said thoughtfully. "In a way, he's not. As long as you remember him, he's never really dead."

"But that's just it," she said worriedly. "What if I forget? I'm already having trouble picturing his face..."

"You know what, sweetheart, that's normal," Horatio said kindly. "And that will change."

Amber thought about what he said, blankly staring at the tombstone.

"I miss him," she said softly, surprising herself when a single tear ran down her cheek. She brushed it away.

Horatio didn't say anything for a moment.

"Amber, I truly believe he will always be with you, watching over you," he said quietly.

Amber smiled her sad, little smile. "Like a guardian angel?"

"Exactly."

She let out a small laugh. "I like that."

Amber knelt in front of the tombstone, not caring about dirtying her knees in the earth. She put a hand on the stone, it's smooth surface cool on her palm.

She absentmindedly traced the letters and numbers engraved on it with one finger:

_Martin Elijah Roth_

_1968-2010_

_Beloved Father, Brother and Son_

Amber leaned forward to give a little kiss to the white stone. "Bye, Daddy," she whispered to the rock. "I'll be back to visit, don't worry."

When she was finished, she stood up and brushed the dirt off her pants. Smiling at Horatio, she took his offered hand and walked with him back out of the cemetery.

"Do you mind if we make one more stop before we go back to the lab?" she asked.

Horatio smiled. "That's fine with me," he said. "I think Ryan's counting on it."

{•}

Amber approached the hospital room quietly. Horatio was waiting for her down the hall, but he had given her as much time as she wanted. She peeked around the door frame.

Ryan was lying in his bed, sleeping. His right arm was in a sling, his left hooked up to an IV. The monitors beeped steadily, indicating everything was normal. He was propped up on a few pillows, his face at utter peace.

Amber crept up to his left bedside and took the empty seat there. She peered at him, smiling. She was glad to see he was doing much better. He was still pale and very weak, but the shadows under his eyes were fading and he was becoming more and more like his old self every day.

No one had believed he would survive. After they had gotten his heart going again, the field medics had said he wouldn't last the helicopter flight. When the helicopter landed at the hospital, the doctors had said he wouldn't survive the surgery. After he did, they had finally begun to share the hope that Amber had all along.

It had been a long, hard two weeks. Two surgeries and multiple blood transfusions later, Ryan was officially on the road to recovery. He had slept for an entire week and a half before he finally woke up. Amber had been there when he did. She would never forget that day.

Amber reached forward and took hold of his hand. It was healthily warm, she was pleased to find.

"Ryan?" she asked.

He stirred, opening his eyes a crack. When he saw who was there, he smiled.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," she echoed.

They smiled at each other for a moment, then laughed.

"Sorry for waking you up," she said. "But my aunt's coming to get me soon and I wanted to say goodbye."

"That's right," Ryan said, his voice tired but otherwise fine. "Off to Palm Beach."

"Have you ever been there?" she asked.

"No, but I'll have a reason to visit now," he replied teasingly.

She giggled.

"So," she began slyly, smirking wickedly. "Have you seen Ellie recently?"

A light shade of pink crept into Ryan's face and neck. He cleared his throat loudly. "Well, you know," he stammered awkwardly. "She's back at medical school here, so she stops in from time to time."

"Uh-huh, _and_?" Amber asked, leaning in close with an expectant look on her face.

"And nothing, you little troublemaker!" he growled jokingly, nudging her head away with his hand. She shrieked with laughter.

"I have something for you," he said after she had calmed down again. He reached his left hand into his sling and pulled out her angel wings necklace. She beamed when she saw it. "I've been keeping it close by for good luck. I think it's time you had it back."

"No," she said. "You keep it."

"But it's yours!"

"Yeah, but you need it _way _more than I do," she said dryly.

He laughed at that. "Thanks!"

She smiled. They fell silent for a while.

"If you ever need anything or if you just want to talk, you can call me anytime, okay?" Ryan said, stowing the necklace back in his sling. "You have my number, and you are always welcome to use it."

She nodded. "I will."

The two sat quietly for a few moments, more passing between them in the silence than could ever be expressed in words.

Ryan felt a pang in his heart at the thought of letting her go, but he knew it was for the best. "You'd better go find Horatio and get to the lab," he said quietly. "You don't want your aunt to have to wait for you."

She sighed. "Okay."

Amber stood up to leave. She hugged him tightly around the neck, not letting go for a long time. When she finally pulled away, she planted a kiss on his cheek, gave him one last smile and turned to walk away.

Ryan watched her go, a piece of his heart going with her.

When she reached the doorway, she paused for a moment, then turned back around. "Can I ask you something?" she inquired.

"Anything."

"On the boat, when you were... you know, when they were trying to wake you up? Could you hear what I said to you?" she asked, pausing. "Because I meant it."

With one final smile and the wave of a hand, she disappeared into the hallway.

Ryan rubbed the angel wings charm between his thumb and index finger.

"I love you, too," he whispered.

**THE END**


End file.
